Christmas Lights
by Sabari
Summary: All Chase wants to do is get home for Christmas after a mission gone awry leaves him stranded in an unfamiliar city, a city which does not believe in heroes. Non-slash/non-pairing.
1. Does That Mean Christmas Changes Too?

_A/N: _**_As usual, I'm going to say this story is probably AU, though not especially intentionally so. It is set in season three, prior to the episode _****"You Posted What"****_ (mainly because I hadn't seen that far into the series at the time this was written), so there may be/are spoilers for episodes up to that point. Also, as always, this story is completely written. As per usual, I will upload one chapter per day (Barring anything out of the ordinary. I will attempt to give readers a head's up via A/N). This was written for my entertainment, and is being published for yours. If you find yourself not enjoying it, then you should feel perfectly free to stop reading. Heap praise or criticism upon it, whichever may suit you best. Or say nothing about it at all, if you would prefer._**

**_I rated this story K+ and I feel that is sufficient. However, there is a bit of mild violence (and potential violence), as well as some peril to characters, drinking and religion are discussed in passing and certain adult themes are referenced indirectly. If any of this bothers you, feel free not to read the story. If you encounter at any point something that you feel is not K+, please do feel free to inform me via message with or without your reason and I will up the rating to T._**

* * *

><p><em>Tuesday, Dec 23<em>_rd_

Snow fell in wild flurries from the clouded sky. Icy wind blasted low between buildings, car tires slid alarmingly on the frosted road. Drivers were further hindered by rubberneckers who paused to gape at the side of a building, which seemed to have been torn open. Brickwork lay in uneven piles, some half-buried in the snow, the rest having landed in drifts and thus having disappeared utterly from view.

It was purely by chance that the street was empty when Chase sat up. He had been lying in one of the deeper drifts, which was almost to his shoulders even now that he was sitting up. He put a hand to his aching head and winced slightly before trying to look around. That was easier said than done. Doing so made him aware that more things than just his head hurt. He also didn't realize how cold he was until his snow crusted glove made contact with his skin.

He yelped and pulled his hand away, then moaned and seriously considered lying back down. His mission suit was designed to withstand temperatures far more severe than this, but much of the snow had found its way under his collar and melted there. He was not cold past endurance, but his joints were beginning to ache and he was shivering.

He had to get indoors, to someplace warmer.

Awkwardly, Chase staggered upright. The world spun and momentarily faded out, so he stood there swaying uncertainly, wondering if maybe he hadn't been better off unconscious. But then the world popped back into existence, though it still tilted sickeningly every time he moved.

Chase looked around. Nothing looked familiar. He tried to remember what had happened just before he passed out. He drew a blank. He didn't panic. He knew full well that sometimes you can't remember what happened just before having blacked out. When you blacked out, you weren't getting enough oxygen to your brain and so anything you remembered wouldn't necessarily be reliable anyway.

Having determined to the best of his ability that he was in no immediate danger, Chase set himself to trying to find the last thing he did remember. It was then that he panicked. This was because all that came back were jumbled images and fragments of memory. Not only couldn't he remember the events leading up to his current situation, he couldn't remember anything else either.

The faces of people he thought he knew came into view of his mind's eye, looking like worn out photographs. A tall boy with brown hair, a spitfire of a girl, another boy smaller than he was, a man with jet black hair, another man with tall hair, a woman, some kind of troll in square clothing... he didn't know how he related to any of them. He also had a list of names, but he wasn't sure who they belonged to. In fact, he was beginning to question his memory about his own name, which he had assumed was 'Chase' when he woke up.

"_No," _he told himself firmly, _"my name is Chase. That much I do know."_

There was a flickering behind his vision and the world got suddenly darker. Chase staggered like something heavy had hit him from behind. He nearly lost his balance and fell, but managed to recover.

Once the world was stable again, he looked around. He didn't know exactly who or what he was looking for, but he knew it was important. He felt like he shouldn't be alone here. There were others... three? Four? Only one or two? He wasn't sure. But he was sure that they should be right here alongside him. And if he was in trouble, then they must be too.

He checked his watch. The face of it was cracked and the tiny battery that powered it was obviously dying. It was bouncing back and forth between 07:37:05 and 07:37:06. That must have been when... he looked over at the hole in the wall... when _something_ happened.

"_Alright, don't panic. What's the last thing I do remember?"_ He asked himself this three times over before he realized that, not only wasn't he thinking of anything, he was also panicking.

He sat down on some of the wall debris and put his head in his hands. He tried to breathe deeply. He also tried to think. He couldn't even get his last name. It started with either a D or possibly a U, and he wasn't sure what letters (if any) followed. He decided to give up on that line of thinking.

Chase felt like he should be able to tell where he was just by asking himself where he was. He seemed to recall that he had a kind of internal GPS... or something odd like that. He put a hand on the back of his neck, trying to get a better grasp of what it was he should know. There was... something inside him. Or maybe he was something... the word that came to mind was 'bionic'.

He was human, but it wasn't as simple as that. He wasn't sure exactly what it was. But whatever it was, it wasn't working. All he was getting was the sound of static in his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear it. But all that did was make him dizzy. He tipped over and fell into the snow.

He got up again after a bit, dusted himself off and rubbed his arms to try and work some warmth into them. Then he tucked his hands under his arms. In spite of the fact that he was wearing gloves, he could only barely feel his fingers. He must have been lying in the snow for awhile.

He looked up at the sky, but couldn't hope to judge the time from that, even though the violent wind was whipping the frenzied clouds quickly across the sky, driving the storm away. Gazing fixedly upwards, Chase was eventually able to make out what he thought might be some stars.

Looking up was making him feel a little ill, so he stopped doing that. At the same time, he heard the ear shattering squeal of car brakes being severely abused and rubber skidding across rough ice. He put his hands over his ears with a pained yelp, but looked around for the car.

Half a block down, a car had hit the brakes too hard. It went sailing across a fortunately empty intersection. A little less than halfway between Chase and the car sat a big fluffy cat. It was sitting in the road, twitching its tail irritably and eying the oncoming vehicle with disdain.

Chase didn't think. It was pure reflex. He ran towards the cat, leaping onto the icy road and sliding the last few feet. His left arm swept up the cat and pinned it to his chest, while his right arm went up in what he thought was a defensive action. To his horror, the car careened off the road in response to the movement of his hand. It jumped the curb and sailed towards a series of closed shops.

Quickly, Chase altered its trajectory and it slid off the sidewalk and swept harmlessly past where Chase and the cat were lying. As soon as it was back on the road, Chase made himself let go of it. He wasn't sure how he'd done that, or what exactly he'd done. The driver kept going, and seemed to think the wild ride had been a result of ice and braking too hard.

Shakily, Chase got to his feet, still holding onto the cat, which had begun to yowl. As he made it to the sidewalk, the creature aimed a sharp-clawed swipe at his face and dug three deep furrows in his right cheek. Chase didn't do it intentionally, but he dropped the cat with a startled cry.

It wasn't because the cat had scratched him, though that stung too. It was because he'd had a sudden, vivid memory. There was an orange cat. It meowed a lot. It had... it had a name...

"Mr. Whiskers?" Chase wondered.

"Fluffles, actually."

Chase jumped, thinking at first that the cat had spoken. But then his eyes found a girl in a gray pea coat. She knelt down and picked up the great ball of gray fur. It looked over its shoulder with daggers in its lemon colored eyes, regarding Chase with absolutely loathing.

"What?" Chase asked, trying to keep pace with current events, and failing miserably.

"My cat. His name is Fluffles," the girl, maybe slightly older than Chase felt himself to be, repeated, "Do you have a cat named Mr. Whiskers?"

"Me? No. At least.. I mean... I don't think so," Chase stammered.

"Well," the girl said, "thanks for saving Fluffles. He never gets out except when a storm is coming. And then he just goes and sits in the road like he's waiting for a bus to take him away."

"I think you mean when a storm is going," Chase said, indicating the rapidly dispersing clouds.

"No," the girl said firmly, "a storm is coming, no matter what the weather report says."

Chase had no idea what the weather report said, and so didn't comment on that.

"Fluffles knows. He always has. There will be a storm. Probably tomorrow. I hope they don't shut down the airlines. My brother is supposed to on his way home from a business trip. If he doesn't make it, then I'll have to spend Christmas with just Fluffles and daddy for company. Again. Anyway, thanks for saving him. Goodbye."

She turned abruptly and trotted up the sidewalk. She paused at the crosswalk, checked both ways, then crossed the street to an apartment building. She trotted up the front stairs and then turned back. Since Chase was still standing there, she freed one hand to wave while the other struggled under the weight of the enormously fluffy cat. Then she went inside and Chase found himself alone on the street.

The driver of the car had already turned a corner and driven out of sight.

Now the cat and the girl were gone, Chase felt even more alone and confused than before.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and walked back to where he'd started. He knew you should always stay where you were if you were lost. But would anyone be able to find him? Was anyone even looking?

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you guys left Chase behind," Mr. Davenport chastised, "he could be really hurt."<p>

"_He_ could be hurt?" Bree spat, "what about us? I was so dizzy I couldn't even see!"

"And I thought that blast turned Chase into a bug," Adam said, opening his hands to reveal the cockroach he'd carefully brought home, "Guess you'll need another name, little guy. Chase is already taken," he put the roach in a glass jar and set it on the desk.

"You're not keeping that," Bree told him.

When she'd realized they had left Chase behind, Bree had turned on Adam. He had innocently showed her the bug and told her he had bad news about Chase. Bree had promptly leaped up onto the desk and screamed loud enough to be heard at Mission Creek High.

Mr. Davenport had taken great pains to explain to Adam that the roach wasn't Chase and they would have to go back and look for him. But before they could do that, he needed to take care of them first. They were glitching all over the place to the point that it wasn't safe to be in the room with them.

"Alright. Into your capsules, both of you," Mr. Davenport said, "I'll start up the debugging program, which will take about an hour to run. I would leave Leo here to make sure nothing goes wrong, but frankly I think we'd all be safer if I took him with me to look for Chase."

"Leo..." Adam said, looking up from his roach, which had flipped onto its back and was now flailing its legs wildly, "is that your wife?"

"What? NO!" Davenport was aghast that Adam would suggest such a thing.

"Girlfriend?"

"Adam!" Bree hit his arm, then turned to Mr. Davenport, "he's your cousin, right?"

"Oh no," Davenport said, "the glitches are affecting your memory, and your abilities. It's worse than I thought. I can't just leave," he sat down heavily in his chair, biting his lower lip.

He had to make a decision. Chase, or Adam and Bree. He knew what he had to do. He had to take care of Adam and Bree first. One, because he knew where they were. Two, because what he learned fixing them would help with Chase, who was going to be worse off by the time they found him.

For the time being at least, Chase would have to fend for himself.


	2. This Christmas Time

_Monday, __Dec 22_nd

_(for those of you who slept through the episode of Barney where they sang about the days of the week and how one of them is Barney's birthday, Monday is the day before Tuesday)  
><em>

"Alright, guys," Mr. Davenport said with satisfaction, pressing a button that caused the safety lights to turn off and the capsules to open, "your software's all updated. Now off to school, you're gonna be late."

"And who's fault is that?" Bree muttered, shaking her head.

"...Santa?" Adam guessed after a significant pause.

"No," Chase replied sarcastically, "the Easter Bunny."

Adam gasped in genuine horror as the full implications of the Easter Bunny trying to make them late for school so that they would be on Santa's naughty list hit him with the force of a freight train. Chase relented and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I'm kidding," he said.

"Chase," Adam scolded, "you shouldn't joke about things like that. It's not funny. I was really scared that the Easter Bunny was trying to ruin our school lives _and_ Christmas."

"I know you were, buddy," Chase said, patting Adam's arm, "I know you were."

"That was mean!" Adam persisted, turning and punching Chase in the arm.

"Ow!"

"Now we're even," Adam told him, "race ya to school!"

"Adam, that really hurt! Adam... wait!"

Bree, hands on her hips, gave Mr. Davenport a mischievous smile. She planned to beat them both, after giving them a significant head start.

"I understand why Adam's stupid enough to think he can beat me," Bree said, "but what is Chase thinking? He can't even outrun Adam."

"He could over a short distance," Mr. Davenport informed her, "but Adam's got strength of endurance on his side. He may not be speedy, but he can run forever."

"And with that unpleasant image in my head, I'm off to school."

"Have a good day at school!" Mr. Davenport yelled after her, but she was already out of earshot, "be sure to learn things!"

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Chase beat them both by taking the bus. Bree would have got there first, but she got cut off at an intersection and turned to the right, only to find herself tangled up in a morning traffic jam. Adam actually ran all the way to school, and was therefore the last one to arrive.<p>

"Proving once again that brains are the best thing to have," Chase said.

"No fair!" Adam protested, "you cheated!"

"And you punched me for no reason," Chase reminded him, "so now we're even."

"No, that was funny," Adam explained, shaking his head, "this... this isn't funny."

"Well, then you should have taken the bus."

Chase hurried on to his first class before Adam could hit him again.

"Don't worry," Bree reassured Adam, giving his arm a sympathetic pat as the bell rang, "you'll get him at lunch."

"Yeah, but it won't be as fun," Adam replied.

"Guys," Leo called, poking his head through the door, "where have you been? Class is starting. You're gonna be late."

"So?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, it's not like it'll hurt his grades any," Bree commented.

"Nope," Adam agreed, "not a bit. Especially since I'm gonna get Chase to help me with my math homework."

"You mean you're going to make Chase do it for you," Bree corrected him.

"Exactly."

"And Chase would do that... why, exactly?" Leo wanted to know.

It wasn't really a secret that Chase was actually perfectly capable of defending himself from Adam. In fact, it was a little unclear why he let Adam hit him and fling him about at all. It was possible that it was just easier not to do anything and just let it happen.

"Because he's going to get something out of it too," Bree said.

"Like what?"

"You'll see," Bree assured him, "it should be obvious by lunchtime."

* * *

><p>Chase was between classes when his super hearing abruptly kicked in. That happened sometimes when someone said his name and he just barely heard it. His brain would react and start paying attention before he even made the decision about whether or not he wanted to eavesdrop.<p>

This time it wasn't his name, it was the sound of a strange voice. There was a tone of authority in the masculine voice. The man was talking to Principal Perry. That in itself was enough to be unsettling, but Chase resisted the urge to look up and continued with what he was doing.

"What about the one who's playing Sudoku, who's he?" the man asked.

"You mean the little one with girl hair?" Chase flinched at the sound of Perry's voice, as well as her comment about his hair, "what's so interesting about him?"

"See what he's doing?" the man asked, "he's filling out the board left to right, top to bottom."

Chase made an effort not to freeze. The information either made no impression on Perry or she decided to pretend that it didn't. Chase suspected the former.

"So?"

"That means he's filled out the entire board in his head and now he's just writing it down," the man said, "who is he?"

Chase had stopped writing, in spite of himself. His pencil hovered above the sheet of paper like a socially awkward teenager at the edge of a party. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath.

"He's not very interesting," Perry said dismissively, "lemme show you a real student."

"Wait," the man persisted, "I want to talk to him. What he's doing... it's not impossible... but it is very remarkable. He has a head for numbers."

"Let's talk about something else," Perry replied, "like how things work around here."

She shunted the man hurriedly into her office and Chase breathed a sigh of relief.

He would have to be more careful in future. Maybe none of his friends noticed his abnormally high intellect, but that man certainly had. What had actually happened was that Chase had run the board through a logic app which constructed it piece by piece and now he was writing down what he saw. He was actually just testing out the app.

The bell for his next class rang, startling Chase. He put his pencil and Sudoku book away. He'd finish filling out the board later.

* * *

><p>Chase was careful not to be the first to arrive in the lunch room. As one of the "geeky" andor "nerdy" social class, it wasn't safe to be in the lunchroom before other potential targets. Granted, he could defend himself, but not without exposing that he was bionic. So he practiced avoidance instead. It wasn't always easy, because sometimes he _really_ wanted to fight back, just to watch the bullies squirm.

Even so, he was in the lunchroom before Adam, Bree or Leo. He didn't know it, but Leo hadn't showed up because the same bullies Chase was avoiding had located Leo in the bathroom.

Chase took a seat at a mostly empty table and settled down to finish off the Sudoku he'd been working on earlier. He was shortly interrupted by someone coming up behind him and speaking.

"What are you doing?" Chase jumped and dropped his pencil, then turned to see a girl with long blond staring at him and clutching a couple of books.

It had started. Whenever grades started becoming a pressing issue, people would begin to pester Chase about helping them. They would offer him something he wanted in return, and then not give it to him, often denying they had even made such an agreement. It was especially true of pretty girls who thought their skin deep beauty was enough to buy them anything and everything they wanted.

Chase elected to reach down and retrieve his pencil at the same time he answered.

"Oh... uh... um... Sudoku."

"Cool," she said, and invited herself to sit next to him.

"No it's not," Chase corrected her.

"No," she agreed with a toss of her lovely hair, "it's really not. But it does involve numbers, which means you are the perfect person to help me with my math homework. Can you believe that they scheduled a test for tomorrow, the last day of school before Christmas?"

"And you've been avoiding math all year up to now," Chase said with a patient sigh, "why change the pattern now?"

"Because my dad implied to me that my grades better improve or I can't expect a new cell phone in my stocking this year," the girl answered.

"It's a little late for improving your grades," Chase said.

"Not if I ace that test tomorrow."

"Well good luck with that," Chase told her, "really. But I have other things to do."

"What if I promised to let you take me to lunch some weekend?" she suggested, "I'm a very pretty girl, you know. And it's not like you have a line of those waiting."

"Uh, erm... No," Chase admitted reluctantly, "but for one, you'd... um... just keep putting it off until we graduate and... _and_ for two, I'm helping my brother. And... well... he needs it more than you do."

At that moment, Adam came with his tray and sat down on the other side of Chase.

"Ooh, crossword, I wanna play!" Adam said, dropping the tray and yanking away the Sudoku book.

"Adam!" Chase protested, making a grab for the book and missing, "that's not a crossword. It's Sudoku."

"Sue Doku?" Adam asked, letting Chase snatch the book from him, "I don't think you want to sue my math teacher. He is a very angry man," he repeated in a conspiring whisper, "A very _angry_ man."

"Was he angry before he met you?" Chase spat, erasing what Adam had written, "and, for the record, 'bull' is spelled with two 'L's."

"Oh," Adam said, "that wasn't bull."

"Right..."

"I'm gonna go," the girl said, and quickly made her exit.

"Alright, Adam," Chase said, once his book was safely inside his backpack, "let's see your math book."

"Well okay, but it's just like yours," Adam said, pulling out his book.

"Except I didn't draw a unicorn on mine," Chase retorted, taking the book, "and I haven't used it as a paperweight or a foot rest."

"That's because it's not big enough, even for you. You'd need, like... two books to make a foot rest."

"Short jokes. While I'm trying to help you. Really, Adam? Really?"

"Oh I don't want help," Adam replied, upon which Chase promptly handed back his book, "But Mr. Davenport says I should at least learn to carry numbers," Chase took the book back and opened it, while Adam went on miserably, "I'm fine with carrying heavy things, but Mr. Doku won't tell me where. He says 'carry the three', and all I want to know is _WHERE_!"

Chase flinched and waited because it looked like Adam was going to cry. He didn't, but he came close. It was clear that he was very frustrated. Unlike Mr. Davenport, most of the school teachers didn't make allowances for how 'simple' Adam was. Of course, they also didn't help where Leo's wimpiness was concerned either, so Chase wasn't sure what exactly they _did_ do besides give people like him undeserved detention.

"Okay," Adam sniffed in an effort to compose himself, "where do we start?"

Before Chase could answer, he heard the sound of ringing outside the lunchroom. He looked around, at first thinking it was his super hearing glitching again, but everyone else was reacting too. It was soon apparent just why that was.

"Look what we've got!" Trent shouted, bursting through the lunchroom doors.

His football team came chugging in carrying something. When the small crowd parted, Chase saw that it was Leo, dressed as an elf. The ringing had been the bells on his curly little elf shoes. Chase stared at him with wide eyes. Adam, naturally, laughed.

"We found an elf!" Trent announced excitedly, waving for his team to put Leo down.

Leo glared at Trent for organizing this, then at Adam for laughing, then at the football team for participating, and finally at Chase for not being a victim with him. Spotting his regular clothes being carried by one of the players, Leo went over and snatched them, then jingled his way over to the table where Adam and Chase sat. He sat down and studiously avoided looking at anyone else in the room.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked.

"Just humiliated," Leo hissed through his teeth.

"Aw, don't worry, Leo," Adam said, patting Leo on the shoulder, "you didn't have any dignity to lose, so nobody thinks any less of you now that you're an elf."

"I'm _not_ an **elf**!" Leo yelled, startling Chase and causing him to jerk back and nearly over-balance his chair, then Leo got up and marched out of the lunchroom to change.

"You know, those red and white stockings would look better on you, Chase," Adam said.

"Don't even think about it," Chase snarled, then pinned Adam to his chair with a dark glare, "It will _not_ end well for you."

Adam's brow furrowed for a moment. Chase was not given to making threats and, when he did, it was usually more like a challenge or a dare. But he looked... well... _dangerous_. Really dangerous. For a moment, Adam almost thought Chase's commando app had taken over. A moment later, Chase shrugged and pushed Adam's math book in front of him.

"Now," Chase said gently, "Pay attention, because I'm going to show you where to carry the three. And I will keep showing you, until it makes sense."

"Well I better go get a pillow," Adam told him, "because this'll take all night and I need my beauty rest."

"SIT," Chase snapped, his eyes flashing briefly, "_down_."


	3. A Cold Winter's Night

_Tuesday_

"We can't just leave Chase," Leo said, following Mr. Davenport from one computer station to the other, "I could go look for him. He wouldn't have gone far. Chase is smart. He'd know he should stay in one place. Unless he thinks he can find his way home..."

"Leo, I get it," Mr. Davenport said, looking over at him, "you want to help. But how would you even get to Exuro? It's over two hundred miles. And you are not flying my sonic chopper."

"I could take the bus," Leo suggested brightly.

"The bus?! Leo, there is no bus from Mission Creek to Exuro at," he checked his watch, "eleven o'clock at night. Besides, it's too dangerous."

"I've taken a bus before," Leo persisted, a little offended.

"No, not the bus. Exuro. Did you know it's the only city to ever ban stories about acts of heroism from the local paper? It is a bad place. No, I am not letting you go there," Mr. Davenport said, shaking his head, "Even if you did survive, your mother would kill me."

"Come on, Big D, we've got to do something!" Leo exclaimed in frustration, "I mean, look at Adam and Bree," he gestured towards the capsules, but neither of them looked, "Chase is like them. Only he's cold and alone and confused in a place he's never been before. We can't just do nothing!"

"Chase can take care of himself," Mr. Davenport told him, then added more gently, "He's resourceful. That's why he's the team leader. That and he's the only one who can focus on solving a problem for more than five minutes."

"You know that's right," Leo nodded, but then shook himself, refusing to be distracted, "But he's also glitching. Badly. I mean seriously, look at _them_."

"Hey CJ!" Adam yelled, "Stop flicking your antennae at me. It's creepy!"

"CJ?" Leo queried curiously.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Mr. Davenport explained, "You see, Adam thought Chase had been turned into a bug. He's been testing out names for it ever since he found out it wasn't his brother."

"That is not better than it sounds," Leo said quietly, and then shouted, "THAT'S _WORSE_!"

"I said cut it out!" Adam yelled angrily.

He stuck his arm straight out and sent the door of his capsule flying across the room, where it crashed into the wall and fell on its front. Mr. Davenport and Leo ducked, each letting out his own personal squeal of alarm as Adam stepped out of the capsule and crossed to where the bug was sitting in its jar.

"Stop looking at me!" Adam said, picking up the jar and shaking it.

"I don't understand what's making him so aggressive," Mr. Davenport muttered aloud, fiddling with some button-laden device, "The blast should only have stunned them, but they're experiencing massive system malfunctions on multiple levels and it's affecting their core personalities."

"Gesundheit," Leo said, then yelled, "What is that supposed to mean!?"

"It's actually very interesting. 'Gesundheit' is a German word meaning-"

"NO!" Leo snapped, "Not that! I know what gesundheit means!"

"Then why did you ask?"

"I didn't!" Leo exclaimed.

"I think you did," Mr. Davenport said.

Adam chose that moment to put the bug jar down and smash the nearest console, which had been blinking for the last few minutes, something which was really getting on Adam's nerves. Bree, meanwhile, was unable to break out of her capsule and had sat down to have a good cry instead.

"Do you really think that now is the time for a German lesson?!" Leo yelled, making an expansive gesture which encompassed the entire room and current situation.

"Well no, but you started it," Mr. Davenport reminded him.

"I did not!"

* * *

><p>As Leo had guessed, Chase was cold. And confused. But he was not, as it turned out, entirely alone. Well, he was for awhile. A long while, in fact. But then he heard a distant, high-pitched wail. It sent rivulets of pain through him, like a finger being drawn across the ragged edge of an open wound.<p>

Chase hadn't had any intention of moving, but the sound was maddening and painful. Without really thinking about it, he got up and backed away from it reluctantly, knowing each step would only get him more lost. But, since he wasn't sure anyone was even looking for him, his desire to escape from the sound overrode his common sense.

He didn't go far, just around the side of the building into a narrow alley between it and the building next to it. The alley was claustrophobic and full of shadows, half-blocked by a badly mangled dumpster and piled high with greasy snow that had been blown, kicked or pushed there. The exposed walkway was slippery with thin black ice and Chase slid and fell and tumbled over next to the dumpster, where he remained out of sight and slightly relieved. He could still hear the sound, but the building was now between him and it, and that helped a little.

Chase crouched in the dark with his back to the dumpster, shivering and waiting for he knew not what.

The sound came closer and Chase put his hands over his ears to try and shut it out. As it came closer, he began to recognize it for what it was. It was the sound of a police siren. And it was coming right to the building from which Chase had just come.

The sound mercifully stopped at last when the car pulled up to the curb and stopped. Two men got out and one shined a flashlight; Chase could see the beam flickering at the end of the alley.

"I don't believe this," one of the men grumbled, "Why would anyone want to do this to Bart's Toy Emporium? Especially the night before Christmas Eve."

"You should be surprised we even got a call," the other one commented, "Bart closes his store a week before Christmas every year, and he doesn't believe in alarm systems. You'd think the man wanted to go broke. Maybe he does..." he sighed and shook his head.

Chase didn't mean to leave his hiding place. In fact, he could not later figure out why and when he'd moved at all. There was a gap in his memory. But the next thing he knew, he was talking to Officer Mendez while Officer Palmer looked on.

In books and movies a child or dog gets lost and nobody helps them. Well, that's not really how it works. You take a six-year-old crying for its mother or a cute collie with a dirty face and half the population of the world is jumping all over them trying to help. Well, not when you're a rough looking teenager who comes shivering up to a policeman near a crime scene in the middle of the night two days before Christmas. At least, not when you're in Exuro. Chase was too old to be cute and too young to be taken seriously.

The officers listened politely at first when Chase told them he was lost. They got a little less friendly when he admitted that he didn't know his address. Or his parent's phone number. Or their names. Or even what school he went to. No, he didn't know what his last name was.

"Look, kid," Officer Mendez said, after exchanging a look with his partner, "I'm sure your friends think you're very funny. Maybe they dared you to do this. I don't know, and I don't care. Maybe you've just been watching too many Christmas movies. But we're at a crime scene, and there are real people out there who really do need help. Why don't you just run along home?"

Chase patiently explained that he would _love_ to do just that, if he knew where home was.

Officer Palmer grew impatient and had Chase turn out his pockets. Chase didn't have any ID. He had no phone. What he had was a broken earpiece, keys to a helicopter, an AA battery and some sort of tazer-like object that the policemen immediately confiscated. They left him the earpiece, battery and keys.

"I have no idea what this is," Mendez told his partner after examining the object more closely, "It's not a tazer, it's more like... I don't know."

"Let me see that," Palmer, rather impatient by nature, snatched it from Mendez, "Huh... yeah, I dunno what that is either," he handed it back, then turned to Chase, "What is that thing?"

"You're asking the kid who can't remember his own name?" Chase asked.

Palmer turned red and looked like he might yell, but instead took a deep breath and let Mendez take the conversation away from that point on.

"Kid, I think you've wasted enough of our time. So go home and rethink your definition of 'funny'. And do us both a favor," Mendez said, "give your father back his keys."

Chase blinked, started to protest, but then decided to give it up. These men weren't going to help him, and he couldn't blame them. His story did sound implausible. Even he wouldn't believe it if someone told him about it. But it _was_ happening to him, and he was scared.

"Go on," Mendez waved off down the street.

Chase turned and trudged away through the snow. He paused, hesitant to leave his starting point. Mendez was still watching and waved him on. Reluctantly, Chase kept going down the street. He didn't know where he was going, but that didn't really matter much because he didn't know where he'd started either. It wasn't like he could get more lost.

Well, now he'd tried pretty much everything. Chase had tried staying where he'd woken up, and now he'd also tried contacting the police. What else do you do in this kind of situation? He wondered that to himself while kicking a ball of dirty snow ahead of him, hands tucked under his arms, shoulders hunched against the driving wind.

He went all the way down the block and around the corner out of sight of the policemen. He knew where he was now. Sort of. The side of the police car had informed him that he was in Exuro. The name didn't ring a bell, but that was no surprise at this point.

It was late, Chase could tell because not only were all the shops he ambled past closed, they had also turned off the white icicle lights which adorned their windows and strings of multicolored decorations wrapped around the scrawny trees planted in little dirty areas surrounded by cement sidewalks. Fake trees and tiny plastic reindeer and anything that wasn't nailed down had been taken indoors to keep them from being stolen overnight and sat leering through glass doors and windows, seeming to mock Chase for having no safe harbor for the night. He wondered what the point of stealing a plastic reindeer was.

You couldn't eat it, you couldn't keep warm with it, and it wasn't worth much in the way of money. It was too much effort for too little reward. Besides, anybody who stole a reindeer probably felt like a jerk doing it, even if they tried to convince themselves it was a fun prank.

It was at this point that Chase realized he was not only achingly cold, but also bitterly hungry. He suspected there'd been no dinner before whatever fateful event had killed his watch at 7:37. Chase wondered if maybe he had broken into that store. Maybe he and a bunch of friends had decided to steal a plastic reindeer from... what was it... Bob's Toy Emporium? Billy's Toy Empire? Something like that. He couldn't imagine why he'd do it, but he _could_ imagine doing it, and that was bad enough.

His head hurt just trying to think about it. To think about anything. Actually, his head hurt whether he was thinking or not. He was cold, he was hurting, he was lonely, he was hungry, he was lost. And what was more, he'd at last come to the worst realization of all: No one was coming to look for him. Chase was completely on his own.


	4. What Tomorrow May Bring

_Monday_

"How come Chase gets to do the dishes?" Adam complained.

Unlike Leo, Adam, Bree and Chase were only too eager to do household chores. Ever since they'd discovered they could get paid for doing chores, it had been a fierce battle between them to see who could get the most chores done. It was a battle Chase usually won.

"Because Chase is the only one I can trust to put the dishes away," Tasha replied, looking up from her magazine, "Bree always uses her super speed and usually winds up breaking half the dishes and putting the rest in the wrong places, Leo doesn't check to make sure they got clean before putting them away, and Adam, you either try to make sure they're dry by wiping them off with your dirty socks or you get distracted trying to poke Chase with the forks. And Donald -if he agrees to do them at all- goes off to design some sort of monstrous device to put the dishes away for him, which ultimately backfires and destroys the house and sometimes even half the neighborhood. That's why."

"Oh..." Adam nodded sagely, attempting to feign actual understanding and failing at it, "I don't get it. I mean, I always make sure my socks are dry first, so I don't see the problem."

"Which is why you're not doing the dishes," Tasha told him.

There was a crash from the kitchen and Tasha looked around sharply.

"What was that?" she demanded.

"Um... you know all those dishes Bree keeps breaking?" Chase asked, wringing a dish towel nervously, "well... that one was my fault."

Tasha opened her mouth to admonish Chase to be more careful, but then she closed it again because she couldn't entirely recall the last time he'd broken one of the dishes.

"Ooh, I'll help!" Adam said, pouncing on the opportunity to do chores.

"Adam, wait! No, you're stepping on it and kicking pieces everywhere!" Chase cried, "Adam, you're making it worse! Stop it, Adam... get out!"

"Geez, sorry," Adam grumbled, backing out of the kitchen and holding his hands up, "I guess some people just don't want any help."

"Adam," Chase hissed, "the plate was broken into six piece. It is now broken into six thousand!"

"You want a broom?" Adam suggested helpfully.

Chase closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"No," he said, his eyes still closed, "I don't. I'll get it myself."

"Merry Christmas, everybody!" they all jumped when Mr. Davenport burst through the front door.

He was carrying a number of packages, most of which were gifts to him from his various employees, but he decided not to mention that for the moment, instead stacking them under the tree. It wasn't that anybody wanted to give him gifts, but more that it was obligatory. Mr. Davenport was one of those people who had felt that he hadn't gotten enough presents as a child.

"Ah!" Chase squeaked when he recovered his voice, "Well, there goes another plate."

"That was me," Adam admitted apologetically, "I knocked it off."

"Onto my foot," Chase snapped.

"Oh. Sorry."

Chase's eyes flashed, "Get. Out. Of the kitchen. _Now_."

* * *

><p>"I don't get it," Adam said, "Is a box turtle a turtle made out of boxes? Or is it a box for turtles? Or maybe a box made out of turtles! Because <em>that<em> would be awesome!"

Bree looked up from the book she was reading. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but it seemed that Adam was being serious. It was just what she considered to be a stupid question.

"You're wrong on all counts," Chase told him, not looking up from surfing the internet on his phone, "it's just a turtle. But it has a special shell that allows it to close itself up like a box."

"I'm not sure what's more frightening," Bree commented dryly, "Adam's theories or the fact that you knew the answer off the top of your head."

Chase put his phone down with a long-suffering sigh and looked over at Bree.

"It's not an obscure fact," Chase said in his defense, "Everyone knows about box turtles. Except for Adam. But he can't even spell turtle... or box for that matter."

"I didn't know," Bree informed him, "I also plan to forget about it as soon as possible."

"Hey Chase," Leo said, wandering into the room, "Dear, wonderful Chase. My favorite brother Chase," Leo sat down on the arm rest of Chase's chair and smiled in what he felt was a winning manner, "How would you like to help me with my math?"

"What? You too? Why is everyone interested in math all of a sudden?" Chase wanted to know.

"I thought I was your favorite brother," Adam put in, but everyone ignored him.

"It's because of our new teacher," Leo grumbled, "Mr. Doku. Tomorrow's test is going to count for half our grade in math. HALF! I am not prepared for that!" his eyes got big for a moment, then he blinked, "Besides, I got turned into an elf because Trent couldn't find you this morning. So you owe me."

"Why would he be looking for me?" Chase asked, "You're the one he hates."

"Yeah, but he says you have better elf hair," Leo replied with a shrug.

"I suppose that's some kind of improvement over having girl hair," Chase said, remembering Perry's comment that morning.

"I don't think it is," Leo disagreed, shaking his head uncertainly.

"It's not," Bree said, "See, I have girl hair and I know that's better than elf hair."

"If you're a girl," Chase retorted, "Which you are. And I'm not."

"Eh," Bree shrugged indifferently.

Chase bristled, but didn't rise to the bait. He didn't feel like it. He had a headache, and he mostly wanted out of this conversation, and to be left alone. He knew just how to make that happen.

"Well at least I'm not too lazy to do my homework the day before a big test. Unlike the rest of you. I don't have to put up with this. You all want my help, but then you just make fun of me. So how about this: You, _all_ of you," he gestured to them all, "figure out your own math. I quit."

He turned and stomped out of the lab.

"Chase, wait!" Adam called, but to no avail, "I still don't know where to carry the three!"

With a soft whimper, Adam sat down in a chair and began to spin it listlessly, his hands in his lap and his eyes slightly downcast. He was afraid of Mr. Doku. The man didn't yell a lot, he was just very, very intimidating. Adam wasn't sure what the man looked like if a student got a failing grade, but he didn't want to find out either.

"Does Chase seem a bit moody to you?" Bree asked of Leo.

"No, but I think Adam's about to cry about his grades in school. And that's weird," Leo replied, "Why do you ask?" Bree frowned slightly and bit her lip.

Chase was far closer to darkness than either she or Adam. Bree, in spite of her temper, had high regard for what was fair and just. Adam, though a prankster, always meant it in good fun and, even when he hit Chase, it was never meant to do any real harm and he just thought it was funny. Chase was one who plotted, and possessed a perfect awareness of the consequences to his actions. It was only natural, him being a genius and all. Which was why his refined taste for revenge was so unsettling.

It wasn't often that Chase was in a dangerously bad mood. Even when provoked, Chase didn't tend to be anywhere near as snippy as Bree had noticed him being today. Then again, she was feeling a little edgy herself. She felt a little like she'd ingested too much caffeine and needed to go for a long run to ease it out of her system.

She decided it was probably just anticipation of school being out. That would explain Adam and Chase too. Chase loved school, like the actual schooling part of school. And Adam... well... Adam was just frightened of his math teacher, that was all. As for Bree, she was excited, but also a bit nervous. She wanted to spend more time with her friends, not her annoying family. But what if all of them were busy with their families and she had to spend Christmas break with her annoying brothers?

She settled back and returned to reading, satisfied that she had discovered the cause of her own feelings of anxiety along with Chase's moodiness and Adam's discontent.

"Wait, Chase said all of us..." Leo reflected, "Bree... did you ask him for help?"

"I don't think so," Bree replied, "but now that you mention it, I could use a hand."

"If you didn't ask him, why did he say 'all of you' and point to each of us?" Leo asked.

"I dunno. Maybe he got confused. After all, every girl in the school has asked for his help," Bree told him, "including Caitlin."

"And now I know why he's happy to help Adam. It's the perfect excuse to avoid spending more time with Caitlin," Leo observed, then added, "Now, while you two sit there doing... whatever it is that you do, I'm gonna go upstairs and make nice with our resident genius and convince him to help _me_ with _my_ math homework. I hope you enjoy being yelled at by Mr. Doku. Goodbye."

"Whatever, Chase will wind up helping us anyway," Bree sighed, not looking up from her book.

"I have seen no evidence that that's true," Leo told her, then left before Bree could respond.

Bree looked up to answer, but saw that Leo was already gone. With a shrug, she went back to her book. After a few seconds, she frowned deeply and turned to the previous page of her book. After about a minute, she turned to the page before that. In a fit of consternation, she closed the book and looked at the front cover. She felt a thrill of inexplicable alarm as she realized that she had absolutely no memory of taking this book off the shelf, much less starting to read it.

She started to put it down, feeling an uncanny chill running up her arms. As she started to set the book down, Bree suddenly had a vivid memory of herself pulling the book off the shelf. Much relieved, she settled back and decided that the reason she didn't recall any bit of what she'd already read was because Adam, Chase and Leo kept interrupting her. She'd just start over and hope nobody said anything to her for awhile. But she couldn't enjoy the book with Adam nearby making sounds of pathetic frustration as he attempted to solve his math problems by himself.

Making a sound of extreme annoyance to let Adam know how bothersome he was, Bree rolled her eyes and got up. He looked at her hopefully, but she wasn't planning on helping him. She was going to go upstairs and find some room where she could read in peace.

Disappointed, Adam let his shoulders sag while he contemplated the incomprehensible problem laid out before him. In a sudden flash of frustrated anger, Adam swept the paper off the desk, picked up his math book and flung it against the wall with a cry of impotent fury. For a moment, the world seemed to flicker and turn shades of red, but then Adam managed to regain control of himself and succeeded in not glitching out.

Now rather shaken, he looked at his math book lying in a crumpled heap on the floor for a long moment. Adam took several deep breaths and unclenched his fists. He was a little frightened by his own reaction. For just a second, he'd been so angry that... that he'd wanted to really _hurt_ someone. It really scared him. But then the moment passed and, with it, the memory of it having happened.

"Aw, who threw my book on the floor?"


	5. Midnight Clear

_Tuesday-Wednesday_

"Adam... Adam. Adam, I need you to get back in your capsule. Can you do that? Adam, look at me. I want you to pick up the door to your capsule. Pick it up, that's right. Now put yourself inside your capsule and put the door back where it belongs," Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of half an hour coaxing Adam back into his capsule while Leo held the bug jar behind his back so it wouldn't distract Adam from the task at hand.

"Go on. In you go. There. Yes, just like that," Mr. Davenport quickly hit a button and the capsules were filled with a gray mist, "it's a sedative," he told Leo, "that should keep them quiet until I can figure out exactly what's wrong with them and fix it."

"Well," Leo said, setting the bug jar down, "just be sure you're the one who explains to Adam that the roach is not dead because I did something to it. It's just that bugs come indoors to die. And that's after you remind him that the roach is not his brother, because I think he forgot that at some point."

"And on that note, go to bed," Mr. Davenport said, pointing towards the elevator.

"What? Now? Come on, Big D, I can help!"

"Leo, it's after midnight. This won't go any faster with you hovering over me. So go on and get some sleep."

"I can't sleep with my siblings in trouble," Leo protested, "I'll just lie in bed and worry."

"Fine," Mr. Davenport was in no mood to argue, "then just sit in your chair over there, and... and stay quiet while I figure this out."

* * *

><p>Chase endured the passage of midnight huddled at the back door of a restaurant. He had wandered for a long time, but this was as close to shelter as he'd been able to find.<p>

You know how in those stories the dog eventually finds a kindly homeless person who feeds them and becomes their friend and then somehow gets their life turned around by the dog? That didn't happen to Chase. He was no substitute for a dog. He wasn't cute, and he didn't look much like any kind of kindred spirit. He didn't look like he belonged on the streets any more than a fish belongs in the Sahara. Interestingly enough, homeless people are just like regular people: they do a lot of their judging by how you look, the rest of it by how you sound when you speak. What you say, and what you do, those don't count for a thing to most people, homeless ones included.

See, that's something those stories never talk about. Homeless people are talked about like they're this magic other kind of people who, just because they don't have a house or job and beg for money on street corners, are some kind of angels. It's not true. They're no different from anybody else. Some are good, some are bad, some are just sort of okay.

But the real reason Chase didn't befriend a homeless person was because he didn't see any. Either they were all hiding from him, had all found warmer places to sleep than back alleys or there simply weren't any homeless wandering the streets of Exuro at night.

Distant sirens pierced the night every time Chase started to nod off. None of them came close to where he had settled, which was a relief, though Chase wasn't entirely sure why. He supposed it was because he didn't want anybody else to tell him to go home. That and he didn't want to be arrested. Truth be told, he was dressed like a burglar, all in black, including gloves and his clothes had various tiny pockets which could hold small tools like lock-picks. All that was missing was a mask.

"_But I don't want to be a burglar," _Chase thought to himself, _"__and I don't feel like a criminal."_

With a heavy sigh, he looked skyward. The clouds had blown away and the sky was a broad expanse of inky blue-black, laced with a network of bright stars. He could only see a narrow stripe of it because the view was blocked by buildings, but that didn't matter. Even though he wanted there to be, he knew there was no answer for him to find among the stars. He felt disconnected and weak, like he should be something more than he was, like he shouldn't be alone.

He felt like he always looked up when he was lost, but he couldn't remember. He wondered how it usually helped. He had already found North, and therefor also knew which directions were South, East and West too. But he felt like there was something... more. Some information he no longer had access to. Like a computer without an internet connection, he felt virtually useless and utterly helpless.

But he wasn't, was he? He looked at his hand, the one he'd used to control the car earlier. He'd latched onto the car accidentally, but he hadn't felt at all surprised, nor had it startled him to find that he could control where it went. He hadn't even been nervous about how to let go once he had the car where he wanted it. He'd just... done it, like it was second nature to him.

But that wasn't normal. He remembered enough to know that. People didn't just grab things and move them with their minds. And yet... that was exactly what he'd done. It hadn't even been that difficult.

A crash nearby made Chase jump. He leaped to his feet and looked around wildly, feeling the tingle of paranoid fear along the back of his neck. The sound had been the result of a trash can being tipped over and its contents scattering onto the sidewalk.

"Hey look what we found, boys."

At the head of the alley stood a guy in his late teens or early twenties. He was wearing a leather jacket and brandishing a metal baseball bat. At his words, three other men came around the corner.

"Hey, little girl," leered one, "it's a bit late for Halloween."

Chase tensed as the first man took a step into the alley. Instinctively, he lowered his center of gravity, sliding easily into a posture which would allow him to either defend himself or flee, whichever became the most reasonable course to take. He did not question his knowledge of combat moves, which began to list themselves alphabetically in the back of his mind. He knew each of them by heart, obviously better than he knew his own name at the moment.

The metal bat struck against the trash can. The loud noise did worse than make Chase flinch. It resounded deafeningly in his head, causing a flash of light to fire off behind his eyes. With a pained cry, Chase dropped to one knee, shut his eyes and covered his ears reflexively.

"You scared, little girl!?" the second speaker shouted, which resulted in raucous laughter from the others.

Chase forced himself to open his eyes. The men were closer now, much closer. They were taking their time, having fun at the expense of what they believed to be a defenseless kid in a back alley. Whether they were a gang or just hooligans who liked to break stuff during the holidays, Chase wasn't sure. He also didn't much care either way.

He felt his fear giving way to a kind of savage rage, which he immediately tried to beat back. His breath was coming faster, his thoughts were getting scrambled. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew he didn't want it to, whatever it was.

"Leave me alone!" Chase shouted, feeling like electricity was crackling across his vision.

"Whoa, what's wrong with his eyes?" asked one of the smaller guys at the back.

That one sounded vaguely uneasy, but the others just kept coming.

"You wearing glitter, girly boy?" mocked the apparent leader, striking his bat against a nearby fire escape.

Chase flinched again as the wave of sound hit him. He was trembling, but when he looked up again, his eyes were bright with anger and his lips had curled into a snarl.

"Do not touch me," he growled, "I'm warning you."

Chase didn't know why, but he had the sudden feeling that he was in no real danger. Flickering in the back of his mind was a series of images, actions he could take and the probable results of them. He was reluctant to use his powers, though he wasn't sure why.

The bat swung for his head. Chase ducked and rolled down the back steps of the restaurant, landing in a crouch in the alleyway. That odd part of his mind was measuring strength, speed and stamina of his opponents and finding them wanting. These were just brainless, dead-drunk thugs participating in illegal tomfoolery. They had no idea what they were messing with.

Chase looked at the trash on the ground, and had a sudden idea. He didn't want to fight, especially not with his adversaries being capable of making awful noises. And he didn't want them to be aware that he had 'special' abilities. But he still had one option, if he time it right.

He flipped backward a couple of times, until he was beyond range of the man with the bat. Then he stood up. He looked skyward and held his hands open at his sides.

"You prayin', boy?" the man with the bat demanded, "Your higher power ain't gonna save you."

Chase didn't react. The ringleader looked back at his cohorts and they exchanged bewildered shrugs and shakes of the head. Then Chase leveled his gaze, looking past them, or maybe through them.

"I don't need saving," he said in a low voice.

He had felt the first hint of the wind picking up, and timed his next action with the icy blast. As the wind ripped its way down the alley, Chase raised his right hand and sent the trash spinning through the air. It slammed into the hooligans, knocking them off their feet while the wind kicked snow into their faces, momentarily blinding them.

Chase watched as the man with the bat staggered backwards, fighting to keep his balance. With a malicious grin, Chase swept his hand to the left, snatching up the trash can and positioning it directly behind the man with the bat. The man ran into it, wobbled and then fell backward with a cry.

Chase didn't linger to admire his handiwork. He turned and fled, determined to put as much distance between himself and those men as possible. He didn't want to fight them, especially now that his right hand was shaking badly, the skin of it stung like he'd hurt it somehow.

Chase crossed empty streets and went down several alleys, guided by the light of the stars overhead and the occasional 'closed' signs of shops. The street lights had gone off for the most part. It was late. Also, some of the lights had been broken, Chase realized as he stepped on pieces of glass.

He was struck suddenly by a painful flash of memory so powerful that it made him lose his sense of direction. He stumbled out into the street, shaking his head. Realizing what he'd done, he fought his way blindly towards the sidewalk as he tried to absorb the memory which had struck him.

It was a dish breaking, shattering onto a hard floor. Then someone stepped on it, and that had made Chase angry for some reason he couldn't recall. The dish broke into more and more pieces, the pieces scattered everywhere. The image imposed itself over reality and Chase fell to his hands and knees, trying to feel his way back into the solid world, even as a portion of his mind resisted, fought to stay in the memory, to pick up the shattered pieces, to put them back together.

Chase made it to the outer wall of one of the shops and turned to lean his back against it. His breath came in shallow gasps and his put his head between his knees as dizziness overcame him. The shattered pieces of his life seemed to be reflected in the memory of the broken dish, but he couldn't recollect them anymore than the shards of shattered glass.

The vision subsided at last and Chase lifted his head to take a deep breath. He found himself staring across the street at the door of an antique shop with a bushy wreath hung on it. It seemed like Christmas was everywhere, but it was going on without him. Chase was on the outside, just looking in at a world he couldn't touch or be a part of.

Chase had never felt so alone.


	6. Christmas is a Kind of Disease

_Monday-Tuesday_

It was somewhat unclear how they'd done it, but somehow Leo, Adam and Bree had convinced Chase to help them. They had set up a folding table in the lab, with Adam on the opposite side of the table from Chase to reduce the chances of his hitting Chase instead of doing the work.

Chase, for his part, had taken two rolling chairs and was sitting in one and propping his feet up on the other. This was mainly so that he could doze between questions, something he was getting pretty good at, seeing as it generally took about ten minutes for the answer to sink in enough that another question arose. Longer if it was Adam who'd asked the question.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Davenport asked, walking into the room.

"_They_ are doing math," Chase replied, answering questions without hesitation having become almost second nature in the past couple of hours, "I'm helping them."

"You look like you're sleeping," Mr. Davenport pointed out.

Chase opened one eye and just sat looking at him for awhile.

"Shouldn't you be doing schoolwork of your own?" Mr. Davenport persisted.

"Are you kidding?" Chase asked, now opening both eyes, "I learned this stuff when I was five. And I've already memorized this year's curriculum, most of which I already knew," he sighed and closed his eyes again, vaguely irritated at the interruption.

Mr. Davenport stood there for awhile, thinking about this. It was true. Chase wasn't just a genius, he was already a well-educated one. That begged one question:

"Why do you even go to school?" Mr. Davenport asked, for he could see no reason for attending school if you weren't learning... things.

It certainly hadn't given _him_ any connections when he was starting Davenport Industries. Nor had he ever managed to obtain a girlfriend. He'd had to go to internet dating, and even then it took years to find a woman who was willing to go out with him and who also wasn't a raving lunatic. Usually.

"I like the atmosphere," Chase informed him.

Mr. Davenport thought about that for a bit. Leo didn't.

"You like the smell of expired meat and despair?" Leo asked.

"I spent the first fifteen years of my life in a basement," Chase reminded him sharply, "Don't judge me."

"The man has a point," Bree said to Leo.

"Besides," Adam added, "who wouldn't want to smell despair in the morning? You smell that and you know the day is only gonna get better from there."

"You know," Leo said, turning to Mr. Davenport, "I think Adam's got something there. I don't know what it is... but it's definitely _something_."

"I dunno either," Adam admitted, "but I think it might be the flu."

To emphasize his point, Adam abruptly pulled a tissue from somewhere on his person and blew into it. Then he looked at it and nodded.

"Yep. That's definitely the flu," Adam said.

"Alright. One: ew," Leo said, "and two: how can you tell?"

"Don't question Adam's knowledge of snot," Bree warned Leo, "you don't wanna go there."

"You really don't," Adam agreed.

"And on that disgusting note," Mr. Davenport said, "it's time for bed."

"But, Big D," Leo protested, "we haven't finished our math homework yet. Mr. Doku will kill us if we don't turn in completed assignments. And also if we do poorly on the test. You can't do this to us!"

"I'm all for sleeping," Chase volunteered.

"_You_," Leo snarled, getting right in Chase's face, "don't have anything to lose!"

"Oh calm down, it's just a math test," Mr. Davenport said, "how hard to could it be?"

"How hard do you think?!" Leo demanded, getting up and thrusting a piece of paper in Mr. Davenport's face, "That's how hard!"

"Ooh, that looks tough," Mr. Davenport admitted, then clapped Leo on the shoulder, "Well, you should have thought of that earlier. But it is a school night and, if Adam's really getting the flu, he needs to get some sleep before he spreads his germs to everyone in your school tomorrow. So, bed, everybody. Shoo!"

* * *

><p>"Ugh, I think I caught Adam's flu," Bree mumbled the next morning, "why did it have to be on the last day of school before Christmas? What's the point of getting sick if you can't even use it to get out of school?"<p>

"I don't know," Chase replied with a yawn, "but you and Adam stay away from me because I... feel," he yawned again, "like I didn't sleep at all last night."

"You look it too," Bree informed him.

"Yeah," Adam said with a sniffle, "you look like someone hit you in the face with a shovel."

"That's about what I feel like," Chase said, nodding slightly, thinking that he really just wanted to crawl back in his capsule and stay there for the rest of the winter, "I'm just glad this is the last day of school. Otherwise we'd be looking forward to another three days of classes besides this one."

"Not if we're really sick," Bree told him, "I mean, right now we just feel bad, but by tomorrow we could be devastatingly ill. Then we could stay home from school. Instead, we'll be staying home anyway and probably won't be able to enjoy Christmas."

"Holiday bugs," Adam sighed, shaking his head, "those are the worst kind. Ooh! I bet they're in league with the Grinch and they're trying to ruin Christmas for everyone because they're lonely and sad."

"Adam," Chase warned, "do not sympathize and then make friends with your disease. I don't think any of us could live with that, least of all your immune system."

"Let my system get its own friends," Adam said, "it's not the boss of me. It? Or is it more of a he? It think it's a he."

"Just... just shut up," Chase said, "we're about to be late for school."

"In Adam's case," Bree observed, "I don't think it really matters. Actually... come to think of it, it doesn't really matter for you, either, Chase. After all, you already know _everything_."

"I never said I know everything," Chase protested, then allowed his ego to take over for a moment, "But I am _very_ smart."

"Ugh. If I wasn't sick before, I'm sure I'm going to be now," Adam said.

* * *

><p>"Welcome to detention," Principal Perry smirked, "I'm sure you're all very unhappy to be here," she smiled unpleasantly, "and here I thought I was going to be all alone this evening, with nothing to do except for wrap presents for my cats and make a list of mailboxes to run over on the way home."<p>

Bree made a sound of disgusted frustration and banged her forehead on the desk where she was seated.

"You're all lucky I'm here to make up excuses for you. Especially you," Perry glared over her glasses at Adam, who fidgeted uneasily, "Sleeping in class," she pointed this remark at Chase, who was halfway to being asleep again when she said that, "Skipping class," she indicated Bree.

"I didn't mean to," Bree protested, "but I was running to class because I was late and then I... I just couldn't stop. I was all the way home before I could turn around."

"And finally, my personal favorite," Perry turned on Adam, "destroying school property."

"I couldn't remember my locker combination," Adam said defensively.

"That's when you call me," Chase piped up, "you know I can either figure out your combination or pick the lock for you."

"You were asleep under the lunch table," Adam defended himself.

"You could have woken me up," Chase told him.

"Oh I tried; believe me, I tried."

"Besides," Bree said, interrupting this line of dialogue, "even if you couldn't open the lock, couldn't you have just broken it instead of ripping the door off its hinges and flinging it at the lunch ladies?"

"I wasn't throwing it at them," Adam said, "they just happened to be standing there at the time."

"You're lucky they have the reflexes of wild jungle animals," Perry said, "otherwise we'd have brought you up on charges. I hear they have a special name for criminals like you."

"I don't think there's a special punishment for students bludgeoning school staff with locker doors," Bree said, "I think they still just call that 'assault'. Right, Chase? Chase?"

Chase had gone to sleep resting his arm on his desk and using it for a pillow.

"Hey!" Perry yelled, throwing an eraser at his head with delighted accuracy, "Wake up, Tinkerbell!"

"Ow!" Chase jerked upright in his chair as though he'd been struck by lightning, "Why?! Why would you do that?"

"Quit your whining and pick it up."

Chase leaned down and picked up the eraser. Perry heaved another one at him, which bounced off his head and skittered across the floor. Chase's grip on the eraser in his hand tightened. He grit his teeth and fought back the irrational anger which was beginning to boil inside him.

It didn't do any good to lose his temper with Perry. It would only land him in more trouble. And she wasn't an actual threat. Not unless he did something to make her into one. After all, she was paid to keep quiet and would maintain her silence so long as the profit outweighed her desire to see other people suffer. Chase slammed the eraser down on his desk and took a breath.

"Now the other one," Perry encouraged.

"No," Chase replied in a cold voice, "It's your mess, you clean it up."

"I could put you in detention for the rest of the school year," Perry threatened, annoyed at having her fun cut short.

"You know what?" Chase hissed, standing up, "Right now, I don't really care. In fact, we've been here for an hour now. So you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna go home. And I am going to sleep until New Year's!"

He pushed his stack of books into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Bree and Adam exchanged glances, then shrugged and got up too.

"Hey! Dirt-wads! Detention isn't over!" Perry snapped.

"It. Is. _Now_," Chase snarled, glaring at her.

Perry stared back at him, and evidently saw something in his eyes that she didn't feel at all able to compete with. She had a bad personality and very little sense of the safety requirements generally demanded by the world in order to stay alive, but some tiny voice inside her seemed to say that right now, this instant, it would be massively idiotic to argue with Chase.

"Alright," Perry sulked, "You can all go. But you're finishing detention as soon as school is back in session. Now get out of my school!" she waved a dismissive hand at the door as though they stayed or went at her discretion.

* * *

><p>"So," Leo said, looking up from his magazine as Adam, Bree and Chase came in through the front door, "how was detention?"<p>

"It was awesome!" Adam announced, wrapping his arm around Chase's shoulders, "Chase stood up to Principal Perry. He's finally grown a spine!"

Chase disentangled himself from Adam.

"Don't touch me," he turned and slammed the door they had just come through, then marched off towards the lab.

"Oh, right. Germs. I forgot," Adam said, wiping his hand on his shirt.

"Adam," Bree said, slapping his arm, "Chase is worried about your germs, not giving _you_ germs. You're the one with the flu, remember?"

"Yeah... I kinda forgot about that too," Adam admitted.

"Although I don't think it matters," Bree said, crossing her arms and shaking her head, "I think Chase is sicker than you and me put together. I thought he was going to activate his commando app right there in detention for no good reason. And he hates being Spike."

"I know," Adam nodded, crossing to the kitchen area, "But you have to admit: Spike is way more fun than Chase."

"You mean Spike is way more dangerous than Chase," Leo corrected him, then turned to Bree, "He does realize that Spike would eat us alive with a side of olives and a smoothee if we gave him an excuse, right?"

"No," Bree shook her head, "he doesn't."

"Well then someone should tell him," Leo said, burying his head in his magazine.

"Tell me what?" Adam asked, peering over the door of the fridge, "Ooh look, hotdogs!"

"No thanks," Bree said, "I think I'm gonna be sick as it is."

"Suit yourself," Adam shrugged, stuffing a cold hotdog in his mouth.

"Oh! Ew... gross!" Bree cried, then fled the room hurriedly.

"Dude, I don't have the flu, and even I find that revolting," Leo commented.

"Eh, to each their own," Adam said.


	7. Light of a Lost Christmas Day

"_Look all I'm sayin', Chase, is that big corporations are evil. So everyone should buy stuff from the little companies until they turn into big evil corporations. By then, all the big corporations would have turned into little companies so we could start buying their products instead."_

"_One, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Two, you do realize we were created by a huge corporation, right? You know, starts with a 'D'?"_

"_Ooh, Disney?!"_

"_What?! No, not Disney-"_

* * *

><p><em>Wednesday, Dec 24<em>_th_

"You okay, kid?" the voice that woke Chase was unfamiliar, rather like the one in his dream.

Only it hadn't really been a dream, it was... more of a memory, only he couldn't remember it all that well. He couldn't remember who he'd been talking to. A brother, maybe? Did he have one of those? Or maybe they were just his friend. But the emotions he'd been feeling in the memory weren't suggestive of friendship. More like someone he loved but couldn't stand being around, which was consistent with his idea of how siblings were.

What really disturbed him was how he'd said that they were 'created' by a corporation. It might have just been a figure of speech, but it hadn't felt much like it. But, if he'd been made by a company... what did that make him? Something other than what he felt like, something less or at least different from human? That was a chilling thought. If he wasn't human... then what was he?

"Hey, kid."

Chase blinked and looked around. The man who was speaking was a portly gentleman in a pinstripe suit. Chase blinked at him. Then he remembered how he'd come to be here with this strange person.

Chase had been sitting in the snow, lost and dejected, when a silver car had suddenly pulled up to the curb in front of him. The window rolled down and the guy in the car had asked Chase if he wanted to make an honest buck for once. Chase had no idea what the man was talking about. The man had then asked if Chase could drive, to which Chase answered 'yes' and then the man asked if Chase was old enough to drink, the answer to that was 'no'. The man seemed delighted with both answers and insisted that Chase get in the car.

Chase knew he had little to lose. If the man proved dangerous, Chase could take care of himself. Besides, maybe he knew the man but just didn't remember him (but, if he did, why had the man asked about drinking and driving?). Most persuasive was the feeling of warm air flowing out of the open car window into the cold night. That proved irresistible.

"Don't worry," the man had said, "I promise not to do anything weird."

Chase decided not to point out that stopping and talking to strangers by the side of the road was weird all by itself. He also elected not to ask any questions about what the man might consider 'weird'. He felt that he didn't want to know.

"I just need a driver," the man explained as Chase eased towards the car, "I plan to become very intoxicated and I'll need somebody to drive me home. Come on, the bar closes at three. That only gives me about two hours to get drunk as a badger on water skies."

Chase attempted to puzzle through the badger reference and decided it wasn't worth it. He also didn't mention that he didn't have a driver's license on him. He wasn't even sure he had a license at all. But he did know how to drive a car. And evidently a helicopter, if the key in his pocket was any indication.

He had spent the last hour and a half or so since sitting at a bar stool and watching this strange man down glass after glass of alcoholic beverages. It was impressive (and slightly sickening) to watch, but Chase had eventually fallen asleep. The bar wasn't exactly warm, but it felt downright hot compared to the outdoors.

Now Chase looked around the bar which was full of thick, smoky air and drenched in murky lights, and there was an indistinct thumping coming from a stage at the other end of the space (calling it a room might be a little too generous). It took Chase a long moment to realize he knew the 'tune', which was being badly abused by an electric guitar and listless drum set. His suspicions were confirmed when the guitarist began to 'sing'.

"We wish you a Merry Christmas," he warbled into the microphone, which whined along with him, "we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you, wish you, wish you a Merry CcchrrristMASSSS... and a H-A-ppy New Year," his voice croaked and groaned across the words like a toad on a piano.

"Shut up!" yelled someone from a table, "You're not funny!"

The guitar ended on a jarring note.

"I'm not trying to be, ya moron!" the man onstage shot back, "I'm a musician, not a comedian!"

'Ba-dum tiss' went the drummer, much to the guitarist's annoyance. The guitarist cursed at the drummer, but was interrupted by the man at the table.

"Who could tell?!" jeered the man at the table, "You're lousy either way!"

Chase had to agree with him in his head, but wisely decided not to get involved. For all he knew, that guitarist might be a friend of his. Or he might be the sort of person who beat you up in a back alley for talking trash about him. In any case, better to remain silent.

_"Great. I remember Christmas carols, but not my own birthday"_ Chase thought.

"You okay, kid?" the man next to him asked again.

"Huh? Oh. Sure. Yeah. Fine," Chase said, shaking his head.

He looked around this dimly lit club... bar... thing. He didn't know it. He didn't know the faces at the tables or on the dance floor (in fairness, there was only a single woman in a blond wig and pink dress on the dancer floor). Then again, he wasn't sure he'd know his own face if he saw it.

The guitarist and drummer started to play again. The jeering man threw his glass at the stage. He missed terribly, the glass bounced off his own table and knocked him in the chin before spinning off across the floor. Chase stared at it, momentarily mesmerized. He snapped out of it when the guitarist began to sing again.

"I heard the bells on Christmas day," the guitarist groaned dismally, "their old familiar carols play..."

Those lyrics seemed pretty ironic to Chase. Except not really. The song was old, and familiar. But, of all the things in this place, it was the only thing. It was the only familiar thing Chase had encountered all night. Of all the things for him to remember, a Christmas carol seemed like the least important.

"And the bells are ringing, 'peace on Earth'. Like a choir they're singing, 'peace on Earth'," the guitarist persisted determinedly.

Chase had never heard the song played in such a heart rending manner. It was more than just bad, there was also that. But it was also... tragic. He'd never known a Christmas carol could be sad, but there it was, no denying that. He didn't want to hear any more. He just couldn't stand it.

"I'll be outside," he told the man at the bar.

Chase got up and spun around until his eyes found the front door. He made for it, dodging the dancing woman and stumbling over a dark wood chair he couldn't see in the dimness. And then, at last, he was out in the fresh air. That first breath of frost seared his lungs and he staggered into the wall, resolving to be more careful with his next breath... when he could finally get it. He'd forgotten how cold it was outside. He could still hear the aching music, could just make out the thin warbling of the singer.

His breath clouded in the dull light of a street lamp. The neon sign overhead flickered and sputtered. Cars rumbled lazily down the street. Just a few, going slow. None stopped for him. Nobody looked his way. In fact, they pointedly avoided meeting the eyes of the lone boy leaning against the wall of a bar. They probably thought the same thing he wished was true, that somebody inside knew him, would come out when the bar closed and call for him, and there he'd be, outside because he wasn't old enough to be allowed inside (even though that's exactly where he'd come from).

Minutes passed. Nobody was walking on the snowy sidewalk, the road was icy and looked treacherous. Cars only crept down it, their drivers peering cautiously out of frosty windshields. The buildings here were in disrepair, many looked completely abandoned. Chase noticed the bar sign itself was crooked.

The 'band' inside played several more carols. Sometimes Chase heard the jeering man. Once the whole room got involved. The band had been playing 'Joy to the World' at that point. It nearly started a riot. It was that bad. Or maybe the people inside just didn't feel very merry.

After all, it was close to Christmas and those people were hanging out in a bar, each and every one at a stool or table alone. Those were not happy people. They were not full of Christmas cheer. Even the dancing woman had seemed more desperate than joyful. And then the band was playing 'I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day' again. It was apparently the only song that didn't put their lives in danger.

The bar was closing, people were leaving on the notes of that song.

The singer had just gotten to, "And in despair I bowed my head, 'there is no peace on Earth', I said. 'For hate is strong and mocks the song, of peace on Earth, goodwill to men'," when the man in the pinstripe suit came staggering out.

"Ah, there you are," he slurred, trying to pat Chase on the shoulder but missing by several inches and almost falling down, "I thought you might have wandered off without me."

"I told you I'd wait," Chase reminded him, helping the man regain his balance and aiming him towards the silver sedan they'd come in.

"Ah, so you did," the man nodded vigorously and nearly tipped over onto Chase, "Not everyone keeps their word around here, you know. I was worried I'd have to sleep in a back alley. Didn't fancy that."

"I can see why not," Chase said, leaning the man against the side of the car so he could get the passenger door open.

"I wasn't always like this, you know," the man went on as Chase folded him awkwardly into the car, "I was a wealthy man once. I was a preacher once!"

"How nice for you," Chase replied absently.

His head was starting to hurt again and he was questioning why he'd ever agreed to this.

"I suppose you must think those two things are a contradiction in terms."

"Which two things?" Chase asked, then held up his hand, "Wait while I get the car started," by that he meant the heater, "Then you can tell me all about it."

"My father was a preacher," the man said as Chase got the car started.

He'd laid his head against the rest on the seat and was sort of staring upwards, in the general direction of the ceiling or the top of the windshield. His words came slow and blurry, but he persisted anyway.

"I was a preacher's son," the man went on, "I could quote all the popular bits of the Bible by the time I was eight years old.  
>'Wise men came from the East came to Jerusalem, saying "Where is He who was born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him"'.<br>And so on."

Chase wondered if his family was religious. He didn't feel very religious, especially not right now. The words did not resound within him. He thought maybe it would be nice to never feel entirely alone, and to have someone you could ask for help when you were lost like he was right now. But wishing and thinking did no good if you didn't believe, and he wasn't sure if he did.

"When my father had his first stroke, I took over for him. And I was good. I had learned The Bible by heart, and I could quote it with such feeling as my father had never been capable of. But that was because it was just an act. In truth, I hadn't thought about God as anything but a subject of passionate discussion since I was eleven. He wasn't real to me anymore, and so I got good at acting. I was a great performer. Everyone loved me. And I could have kept at it for the rest of my life." he slipped into quotations again,  
>"'The angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him..'"<p>

"Uh-huh," Chase mumbled during a pause in the man's speech, before signaling for a turn from one deserted street to another, "where did you say you lived again?" It occurred to him that the second quotation sounded very different from the first, though he wasn't sure why.

"Just keep going, I'll tell you when to turn," the man said, waving his hand carelessly, then returned to his story, "And then I met her. She. The love of my life. We were in a grocery store, and both of us were buying sweetened lime juice," he sighed wistfully.

"You mean limeade?" Chase asked distractedly.

"More than limeade," the man replied, "it was the best drink I'd ever tasted. And she felt that way too. Since both of us were going to lunch after we finished our shopping, we went to lunch together."

"Wow, you didn't waste any time," Chase said.

"No. We both agreed that there might not be another minute after the next. But she also was a woman accustomed to fine living. When she found I was a pastor, she said we could never be together. She would be desperately unhappy if she couldn't buy everything she wanted."

"_Sounds like a real prize,"_ Chase thought sarcastically, but politely didn't say so.

"And so I quit. I left the Church. And I went into business for myself. I was twenty-three years old, and I had found my true calling. Within three years, it was clear I was going to be a huge success. And I married her, the love of my life. She became my wife. I was thirty-two when we had our first child, a boy. Our daughter was born three years after that. And then... then my wife decided she wasn't happy. She felt strained by having two children, constricted by what remained of my Church friends, and confined by having to play the part of the wealthy wife."

"She left you?" Chase guessed.

"She left me," he confirmed with a miserable drunken nod, "Eighteen years I've raised the two kids. Benjamin started getting into trouble, DUIs and things like that. Every Christmas, he disappears for days. I don't know where he goes. And Ruth, my lovely daughter... she rarely leaves the house. My business is kaput and all I have to show for years of work is a son who hates me, a daughter who's afraid of life and a big fluffy cat. And so I drink."

"Which improves things somehow, I'm sure," Chase commented dryly.

"No, no it doesn't really. But I just...- Look out!"

Headlights flashed blinding white through the windshield. Breaks squealed, tires skidded on ice and a spectral black car hurtled out of the darkness right towards the silver sedan.


	8. The Only Gift

_Tuesday_

"I cannot believe I forgot to buy my mom a Christmas present. I am the worst son in the world."

"Leo, that's not true," Bree said, then added, "but it will be if you don't get out of the clearance section."

"Yeah, even Adam knows that no woman wants to see a big, red 'five dollar clearance' sticker on her Christmas present," Chase said, taking Leo by the shoulders and steering him toward a different section, "Now come on, we're trying to help you, but you've gotta meet us halfway."

"Or at least in a different aisle," Adam put in.

"Okay. Alright, I'm going," Leo pushed Chase back, preferring to travel under his own power, "Okay, Bree, you're a girl, what sort of gaudy materialistic trinket do you see in this aisle that you want?"

"Oh no," Bree shook her head and crossed her arms, trying not to laugh, "I am not choosing this for you. It's a gift from you, so you've got to do the work. And what do you mean by 'gaudy'?"

"Well look at this stuff," Leo said, lifting the heavy, faux gold chain of a necklace with his fingertips as though afraid it might bite him, "all this says is 'I have no sense of self-worth so I wear big decorations to hide myself'. That's what this says."

"And what does your Christmas wish list say?" Chase asked, "'I'm a greedy little boy with a poor sense of priority, practicality and expense'?"

"Oh hush," Leo grumbled, "All you asked for was money that you could put in a savings account. You can't put that in a box and wrap it."

"So?"

"While we're here," Bree broke in, grabbing Chase by the shoulders and shaking him a bit, "Can we exchange him? I think this model is defective."

Chase shook her off and flashed her an irritated look, but decided it wasn't worth fighting about.

"So what do you get for the woman who married a man who buys her everything?" Leo wondered aloud, "I mean, Big D is fun and all, but he buys Mom everything she wants. And as far as wanting stuff goes, she's not the most demanding person in the house."

"Yeah, that prize belongs to you," Chase said, then added thoughtfully, "Or possibly Mr. Davenport."

"You do realize Adam asked for his own personal highway billboard so he could write notes to passing motorists, right?" Bree asked.

"Fair point," Chase said.

"Guys! Can we focus?" Leo interrupted, "I really need your help here."

"Why don't you just buy her whatever you'd have gotten for her before she married Mr. Davenport?" Adam suggested helpfully.

"A gift card for a clothing store I don't go to?" Leo said.

"No!" Bree exclaimed, "The woman deserves better than a gift card."

"Are you kidding? I would _love_ to get a gift card," Adam said, "I'd frame it and hang it on the wall."

"Adam... I don't think you understand what a gift card is for," Chase commented.

"Maybe not. But I do know one thing, the ones with pictures of kittens are super adorable. Great. Now _I_ want a gift card. Chase, did you get me a Christmas present yet?"

"Adam, it's December twenty-third. What do you think?"

"No? Great. That means you can get me a gift card!"

"Better just get him one," Bree whispered, "since he only wants to hang it on the wall, I suggest five dollars. Go on, I'll keep pointing Leo in the right direction."

"Aim him towards the music boxes," Chase whispered back, "we know Tasha likes those."

"Good idea."

* * *

><p>"Candy bars, chewing gum, magazines... I don't get it. Nobody would buy this stuff on <em>impulse<em>. This is the kind of stuff you go to the store to get on _purpose_. Ooh, look, cough syrup."

"Only Adam could make the impulse decision to buy cough syrup," Bree sighed, shaking her head.

"Well obviously the store manager disagrees," Adam retorted, clutching the bottle defensively.

"Maybe he thinks if you're sick you won't feel like wandering back to the pharmacy section to look for anything," Chase theorized.

"Then the entire pharmacy section should be right here," Bree said, gesturing to the checkout counters.

"That," Adam said, "would be awesome. I bet a lot of people don't even know you can buy lemon flavored cough drops."

"Adam, everyone knows about lemon flavored cough drops," Chase corrected him.

"I'm not convinced of that," Leo told Chase, "My Grandma still gets those cherry ones."

"Ew," Chase said.

"Like lemon is any better," Bree challenged.

"Well it is," Chase retorted.

"Agreed," Adam sighed, "but they're both just so good. Ooh, Chase, I could get another bottle of cough syrup for you to put in your stocking. Then you could act surprised when you found it."

"No thanks," Chase said, "I'm good. You're the one blowing your nose on your sleeve. Which is gross by the way. Also, people are starting to stare."

"Well, Chase, that's probably because they've never heard someone sing 'Winter Wonderland' through their nose before."

"That," Chase admitted, "is very probably true. But I don't think that's why they're staring."

"You're sure she'll like this one?" Leo asked of Bree, gazing uncertainly at the dark-wood music box he'd picked out, "I could go get the one with the flowers on it instead."

"If she doesn't like it, she can always come here and exchange it," Bree assured him.

The four of them were standing in a long line of tired shoppers. They were now about three from the front of the line. This was no time for changing their minds about anything they were buying.

"Who's the lucky lady?" asked the elderly woman behind them.

"My mother," Leo replied.

"Oh that's so sweet," the woman smiled in that way that said she thought Leo had no girlfriend and was therefore reduced to purchasing items for his mother.

That smile made Leo's blood run cold.

"Janelle," Leo squeaked, nearly dropping the music box on the floor.

Bree caught it just in time and stared at Leo coldly.

"You forgot to buy Janelle, the girl of your dreams, a Christmas gift!?" Bree exploded, passing the music box to Chase quickly before she lost her temper and smashed it to emphasize her disbelieving fury.

"Well, I didn't exactly forget... I mean, I remembered... just now," Leo said brightly.

"You're unbelievable," Chase said, from behind the safety of the music box.

"I can't believe this. The store is closing! What am I gonna do!?" Leo cried, "I'm spending all I've got on the music box!"

"Bree, here," Chase said, passing the box to Bree, "I'm next in line. Adam, a word."

"What?" Adam asked, following Chase to the register.

"Look, I've already got you a gift. And Leo really needs to get something for Janelle."

"You want me to give her the cough syrup," Adam guessed.

"No. I want to buy the gift card for Leo to give to Janelle."

"But... but... I thought-"

"Yeah, you can go ahead, we're gonna be a minute," Chase said to the little old lady who was directly behind them, "we've got something to negotiate."

Neither Bree nor Leo noticed the lady going ahead of them. Leo was coming unglued, and Bree was at once criticizing him and trying to calm him down. Chase pulled Adam aside.

"Look, I know you wanted the gift card, but you're gonna get lots of presents. Ones that will be an actual surprise. And you don't really want Janelle to be mad at Leo, do you?"

"Well... no, I guess not. Alright, Chase. She can have my gift card."

"Thank you," Chase said for Leo, who would probably be saying it later, "Leo will really appreciate your sacrifice this holiday season."

"I know," Adam sniffled, "I know."

"You need a tissue?" Chase asked.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll be okay."

Their plans hit another snag. The little old lady was rummaging for her glasses in her purse. At last she found them and peered into the large bag where she kept her shopping essentials.

"Oh dear," she moaned, "I've left my credit cards at home. All I've got is my emergency twenty."

"Alright, Ma'am," the girl at the register said, "which of these items would you like me to put back?"

"Oh, I have to get all of them. There's one present for each of my grandchildren. I can't possibly choose. Oh, what am I going to do?"

Chase and Adam exchanged looks. Chase's first thought was that they were going to be there for awhile while the woman made the emotional decision to leave some of her items behind. But Adam, as it turned out, had a very different first thought.

"Hold these," Adam instructed, handing Chase his precious bottles of cough medicine.

Suddenly Adam had the undivided attention of everyone in line, including Bree and Leo. He didn't notice them though. Awkwardly, almost shyly, he pulled out his wallet and unfolded it.

"How much do you need?" he asked of the elderly woman.

"Excuse me?" she asked, startled almost out of her wits.

"I'm not very good at math," Adam said, this time to the lady at the register, "Could you tell me what the total cost of all this.. all this stuff is?"

The girl at the register told him and Adam handed her the required bills. He smiled a little at the old lady, who was in the process of trying to collect her thoughts enough to protest. But some part of her didn't really want to. After all, these weren't gifts for herself, but for her precious grandchildren, one of whom was having his first Christmas in this world.

"I- I can't possibly let you-" she faltered.

"Try and stop me," Adam said, smiling for her again and then stepping back so that the little old lady and the girl at the register could finish the transaction.

Adam went and stood with his siblings.

"I guess you do have some redeeming features after all," Bree whispered to Adam, giving his arm a pat.

"Yeah, Adam," Leo said, "that was really nice of you."

"Well, I figured if I didn't do it, it would be like stealing candy from a baby," Adam said with a dismissive shrug, "only it would be not buying presents for little children I don't know."

"Well now I feel kinda bad about the gift card," Chase whispered to Adam.

"It's okay, Chase. You can get me one for my birthday," Adam replied quietly.

"Sure, I'll do that," Chase said, patting Adam's arm.

The elderly lady now had her bags and was shuffling off, so Chase reclaimed his place in line. He bought the gift card. The amount was marked on the back and he quickly wrote Janelle's name in the 'To' portion of the card and Leo's in the 'From' part. He handed the card to Leo.

"What's this for?" Leo asked, reading, "I thought you guys said women don't want gift cards."

"Look at the amount," Chase recommended.

Leo's eyes got big and he looked from the card to Chase, then back again.

"That should make up for it being a gift card," Chase told him.

"Chase, I don't know how to... you know I'll never pay you back. This is too much. I couldn't save all this, I'd spend it before I was halfway there," Leo stammered weakly.

"That's why it's a gift card, Leo," Chase explained, "It's a gift, no payment necessary."

"Wow, I never would have guessed that both of my annoying brothers have good qualities," Bree said, "and Chase, generosity from you... that's impressive."

Chase shrugged. He was about to suggest that they go when their watches all beeped. He looked down at his watch, then exchanged looks with his siblings.

"That's a mission alert," he said in a low voice, "we have to go."

"But the music box," Leo protested.

"You stay here and pay for it," Chase told him, "we have to go."

"But-"

"Do you want your own mother to consider shipping you off to another continent? No? Then pay for the box. We'll see you when we get back. Promise."

No one had ever told Chase that you should never make promises you can't keep.


	9. Powers of Heaven

"_I don't want to get a shot!"_

"_Adam, you knew that you would have to be vaccinated by a doctor if you went to school. Even though their food doesn't pass health inspection, their students have to. And that means not only being vaccinated but having records proving that a qualified doctor stuck you with a needle."_

"_Oh, don't say that! It hurts just thinking about it!"_

_Chase looked over his book at Adam and Mr. Davenport._

"_You should have expected him to react like this," Chase said, "You know anything that isn't happening right now isn't real to him. This morning he thought the entire house was confined to this basement and that everything else was some kind of magical dream."_

"_That may be partly my fault," Mr. Davenport admitted, "You see, I used to tell Adam the rest of the house was an illusion. It was the only way to make him stay in the lab."_

"_Good one," Bree commented sarcastically, pausing in brushing her hair to fix the perfect mocking look on her face and then aim it at Mr. Davenport._

"_Like you're any better," Chase muttered, "When it was time for your shots, Adam had to carry you a foot off the ground to keep you from running away."_

"_Tell me, Chase, why don't _you_ have a problem with going to the doctor?" Bree asked, "Because I, and the rest of the world, would love to know why you're the only person on the planet who doesn't mind getting shots."_

"_I have a high pain tolerance," Chase mumbled, then added, "Besides, I have a perfect understanding of why we have to have a doctor give us the shots, and what the vaccinations actually do. Maybe if you tried learning a little about them, you wouldn't be scared anymore."_

"_Ha!" Bree scoffed._

"_I thought you said shots didn't hurt!" Adam cried, rounding on Mr. Davenport._

"_Well they don't. Not really. It's just a little..."_

"_Liar!" Adam yelled, taking a menacing step, "You lied to me!"_

"_Uh... Bree?" Mr. Davenport looked to her for support, but she shrugged._

"_That looks like your problem to me," Bree told him, "I mean, you did lie."_

"_Chase!?"_

"_What?" Chase asked, looking over at Mr. Davenport._

"_Chase... help me with your brother. Please, Chase!" Mr. Davenport had now backed up against the wall, but Adam didn't look inclined to let this go._

"_You wanted to hurt me!" Adam cried._

"_CHASE!"_

"_Ugh, fine," Chase sighed, setting down his book and putting one hand to his head, "Connect to Adam."_

* * *

><p><em>Wednesday<em>

Chase's eyes flashed open as he sat bolt upright.

"My name is Chase Davenport. I am sixteen years old. I have two siblings, Adam and Bree. No wait, three siblings. There's also Leo. I go to Mission Creek High. There's a computer living in the walls of my house. I know binary. I can calculate pi to-"

"Hold on. Easy. Take a breath."

Chase blinked and the rush of words stopped. He took a shuddering breath and looked around. He was in a dull yellow room, and he had been lying on a bed. To his left was another bed, which the man in the pinstripe suit was sitting on.

"Slow down a little," the man told him, "You're in a hospital. There was an accident. Do you remember that?"

The black car flashed in Chase's mind and a shiver ran down his spine. He nodded faintly. He remembered the car. He remembered it coming right for him. He remembered there being no time to react. The car had come out of a parking lot exit too fast and slid across two lanes to hit them. Oh yes, Chase remembered that. And too, he remembered something far more alarming.

"I didn't recognize you for what you were when I found you on the street," the man said, "or maybe you were there, waiting for me."

"I wasn't-" but Chase was interrupted before he could finish.

"I've never picked anyone up off the street before, much less asked them to drive me home. But I stopped, just this once. And I got you. You saved my life."

"I didn't-" Chase didn't get to finish his protest.

"I saw what happened. Just as the car hit us, there was a flash of light, like the wing of an angel. It protected us. But it didn't come out of nowhere. It came from you. Until you lost consciousness. But by then, the crash was almost over. I came away without a scratch. And so did the other driver, thank God."

"I think you may be a little confused-" Chase began desperately, realizing his secret had just been revealed to this perfect stranger, whose name he had yet to catch.

"I know what I saw. Chase, was it? What happened was a miracle," the man said, "I don't know how you did what you did, and I don't need to. For all I know, you may never do anything like it again. But you did the impossible. You saved my life, and I believe it risked your own. So... thank you. It doesn't seem like enough. But... if you hadn't agreed to drive me home, I'm sure I'd be dead right now."

Chase decided it was futile to argue. For one thing, the man was right. The crash might have hurt Chase a bit if he hadn't used his force field, though possibly not. But it would surely have killed the other two people involved. Due to his present condition, using his bionics was dangerous for Chase. But it unsettled him when he thought about it. The one time this man stopped and picked up someone on the street, it would turn out to not only be someone with the power to stop two cars from colliding, but it would also be the one time the man was in a potentially deadly car accident. And Chase now remembered that he wasn't in the habit of talking to strangers. And yet... he'd agreed to get in the car with one. Why? He didn't like to think about it.

So he decided to change the subject.

"I need to get out of here," Chase said.

"No, no. The doctor hasn't examined you yet. This emergency hospital is packed. He determined you weren't in critical condition and went off to take care of some other accident victim. You need to stay here-"

"That's even better," Chase interrupted, "I need to get out. _Now_."

"Chase, you could be seriously hurt and not even be aware of it yet."

"I am, I am," Chase nodded, sliding off the bed and taking a moment to get his breath, "But the doctors here can't help me. I need to get home. I need to... to..." it was then that he blacked out.

* * *

><p>"Alright," Mr. Davenport sighed, "I think I've figured out what went wrong."<p>

"Have you really?" Leo asked drowsily.

In spite of his protests, Leo was falling asleep in his chair and had also quickly lost interest in the stream of techno-babble Mr. Davenport kept trying to burden him with.

"No. Not really," Mr. Davenport admitted, a bit testily, "But I do know how to fix it."

"Oh?" Leo asked with renewed interest, lifting his head off the desk.

"Yes," Mr. Davenport said, rolling his chair to another computer terminal, "Complete system reboot."

"What? How?"

"Well it's their bionics that are causing the problem. I did figure that much out," Mr. Davenport explained, "If I perform a total shutdown of their bionics for a period of oh... maybe half an hour, the chips should 'reset' to the last period they were functioning properly. Then we just reboot the system. And then we can find Chase."

Mr. Davenport finally betrayed his concern for Chase in that last sentence. His voice trembled slightly and he paused for a moment before continuing with his work.

"Does that mean they won't remember the last few hours?" Leo asked.

"No. Their chips don't store their memories. Their memory is in their mind, just like you and I. It's only that their bionics were interfering with their normal biological functions. That's why their behavior and memory have been a little spotty."

"A little spotty?" Leo smirked, "that's what you call Adam trying to take your head off with his bare hands?"

Mr. Davenport glared at him, squinting slightly.

"Just help me with the system reboot before the sedatives wear off."

"Well okay, but this better work. I don't need to see Bree running home blind while Adam navigates for her. Ever again. In fact, if you could figure out how to erase that memory forever, along with all traces of Principal Perry, that would be great."

"Just get over here and push buttons when I tell you to."

"Can do."

"And leave the snarky comments to Bree. She's better at it than you are."

"Knew the girl had to be good at somethin'," Leo muttered.

"She's good at lots of things. Mostly, she's good at not touching my stuff without permission and then breaking it," Mr. Davenport looked pointedly at Leo.

"Hey, if we're gonna play the blame game, I could-"

"No, no. We're fine. Just... just push the buttons."

* * *

><p>"Ow," Bree hissed, "my head hurts."<p>

"That should be temporary," Mr. Davenport informed her, "How do you feel otherwise?"

"Tired," Bree said, "A little foggy... what happened?"

"We glitched out," Adam said.

He had been the first to recover his senses, what few he had. Now he was sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on the desk, busily eating a bag of chips and trying to remember when and how he'd gotten a cockroach for a pet.

"Oh," Bree said, gingerly stepping out of her capsule, then looking around, "Where's Chase?"

"You don't remember?" Leo asked, looking accusingly at Mr. Davenport.

"All I remember is being in line at the store and getting a mission alert. Chase promised we'd come back... and that's the last thing I remember. Why. Is there a roach. In our lab?"

"I have no idea," Adam told her, "But isn't it awesome? I think I'll call him 'Chase Junior'."

"Why would you do that?" Bree wanted to know.

"I dunno. Just seems like the thing to do. Hey... where is Chase anyway?"

"You're sure they're alright now?" Leo asked of Mr. Davenport.

"Their brain fog will clear up soon. Well... Bree's will anyway. Trust me, Leo, they're gonna be fine. And now, let's go find Chase. He's probably still at Bart's Toy Emporium, waiting for someone to come and get him. Unless he tried to fly the chopper home, in which case he's probably plowed into the side of a mountain. But don't worry, Chase is very sturdy, I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah, Leo, Chase is very sturdy," Adam confirmed, "...Wait, why does it matter that Chase is sturdy?"

"Never mind that," Mr. Davenport said, shaking his head, "I'll explain on the way. Right now, we just need to go. Come on, all of you. We're taking my spare helicopter."

"Ooh, where we goin'?" Adam asked eagerly, "Are we going on that mission we got an alert for?"

"You've already been on that mission," Leo explained, then shouted "And then you left Chase behind!"

"Why'd we do that?" Adam asked innocently.

"You tell me," Leo hissed.

He wasn't really angry with Adam. But he was scared for Chase. And so he lashed out at the only target he had. Adam didn't seem to mind. He seemed more confused than upset by Leo's inexplicable outrage.

"I don't remember anything," Bree said, her voice shaking a little, "What happened to us?"

"Don't worry," Mr. Davenport assured her, "Your memory will come back just fine. Now come on."


	10. And in a Heartbeat

_Tuesday_

Adam, Bree and Chase had gathered around Mr. Davenport in the lab. Adam was fidgeting with the packaging on his cough medicine while Bree and Chase sat and tried to look alert while Mr. Davenport explained the nature of the mission to them.

"Do you guys remember the LEMP?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"That thing on the nightstand next to the bed?" Adam guessed, "Yes. Also, yes, I broke it. Sorry."

"No, I mean the- wait, you did what?" Mr. Davenport demanded, then shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, "Never mind. And no more of that kind of joke. My wife already beat that horse to death."

"Tasha beat a horse to death!?" Adam cried, "That evil witch!"

He started to go look for her to straighten her out, but Chase caught him by the elbow as he went past and Mr. Davenport spent a few minutes trying to explain the figure of speech, with limited success.

"_Anyway_," Mr. Davenport said eventually, "The Localized Electromagnetic Pulse was not a total loss, in spite of your best efforts," he glared pointedly at all of them, "I moved it to a new facility and refined it. It looks like this now."

He pulled up an image on his computer screen.

"A giant water gun? I want one!" Adam said.

"It's not a water gun," Mr. Davenport explained, "That's the new and improved LEMP. It can now be aimed so that it only affects a specified target. Well... actually it's not that accurate."

"How accurate is it?" Chase asked.

"Anything electronic within a certain distance gets it. But only if it's in the way of the directed pulse. If it's off to the left or right, or behind the LEMP, it won't be affected."

"Get to the part where we care," Bree said, waving her hand impatiently.

"It's been stolen," Mr. Davenport told her, "It's one of the things I lost control of, so it's not really 'my' invention anymore. And it's been modified somehow, I'm not entirely sure how because I don't have access to the project. But I'm still responsible for it, because I created it."

"Well that doesn't make sense," Adam commented, "Otherwise your brother would be responsible for us. I mean, you didn't create us, you just trained us. But you say we're your responsibility. By that logic, whoever made changes to the LEMP last is responsible for it."

"Adam," Chase interrupted before Mr. Davenport could compose a reply, "stop trying to use logic to explain things. It's just painful. For you, and for us. Let's just say we need to get the LEMP back before something bad happens and leave it at that."

"Chase is right," Mr. Davenport said, "There's no telling what kind of damage could be caused if that device has fallen into the wrong hands."

"How are we going to find it?" Bree wanted to know.

"Fortunately, we have a leg up on that situation. The LEMP is fitted with a GPS tracking device. Since it was stolen, I was given access to that. We can track it to within ten feet of its location. And if it moves after you guys leave, Chase can track it remotely."

"Do we know who has it?" Chase asked, "or have any idea what we're up against?"

"I'm afraid not, Chase," Mr. Davenport said, "Now don't get upset, you guys. I don't like it any more than you do. But the LEMP is very dangerous. We have to get it back."

"We understand," Bree said for the rest of them, "Just tell us where to go."

* * *

><p>"Why would someone go to a toy store right after stealing a dangerous piece of experimental technology?" Chase wondered, "It makes no sense."<p>

"Just keep your eyes on the sky," Bree muttered, "You've already started to doze off twice, and I have no plans to die in a fiery helicopter crash at the age of seventeen."

"It's okay, Bree," Adam said, "I bet I can fly this. It can't be that different from driving a car."

Bree cringed at the idea and decided not to try and explain the differences between the two to Adam.

"I'd rather die in a fiery crash," Bree replied, "At least that would be quick and not embarrassing."

"_Settle down guys,"_ Mr. Davenport said over the radio, _"Get yours minds on the mission. Chase, how goes the flying?"_

"Just great, Mr. Davenport," Chase replied, "The pilot app you made works perfectly."

"_That's because I made it the week Leo was visiting his grandmother."_

"I did not need to know you threw this together in a week," Chase told him, sounding suddenly uneasy.

"_Oh no, that was a two day project. The rest of the week was spent refining that software update I just gave you guys."_

"Even better," Chase muttered sarcastically, "Alright, guys, here we are."

Cautiously, Chase eased the helicopter downward to the prescribed landing zone. He noticed that Adam and Bree got very quiet during this. Bree was looking down nervously. She was used to flying, but not to Chase acting as the pilot. Adam, oddly enough, was peering over Chase's shoulder, watching everything he did. Adam, having gotten a driver's license, was considering his next big challenge. Getting a pilot's license couldn't possibly be too difficult. Besides, Chase was flying without benefit of any license at all, so it couldn't be that hard.

The landing went without a hitch and they all quickly disembarked. Chase paused to confirmed the coordinates of their target. They had landed on the flat helipad roof of the building from which the LEMP gun had been stolen. The three of them wasted no time in climbing down.

A stiff wind was kicking up, and Chase was glad it hadn't been doing that earlier, while he was trying to fly. The sky was clouded and looked threatening, and the cold in the air was biting.

"Come on," Chase said, "Let's get this done so we can go home and sleep."

"Chase, why do you say things like that?" Adam asked irritably, "We were gonna do that anyway. Except the sleeping. I plan to stay up all night tonight so I'll be tired on Christmas Eve. Then I'll go to sleep and Christmas morning will come that much faster!"

"Adam, that makes no sense," Chase said, equally testy.

"That's what makes it so perfect," Adam replied, then began to explain, "Because it makes no sense, no one has ever tried doing it to make Christmas come faster. That means it will work."

"Adam... sometimes your logic defies explanation," Bree commented, "Now come on, we're wasting time and I was cold before we started standing around in the snow."

"See, Adam?" Chase said as they headed towards the source of the GPS signal, "This is why I say things like that. We never get anywhere if nobody says we should go somewhere and do something. We just stand around talking like those people in sitcoms who only have two film sets to work with."

"Chase, I think you just described all sitcoms," Bree said, "and probably soap operas. In fact, you may have just described all of television."

"Are you suggesting all TV shows have such limited budgets that they film everything in one or two locations?" Chase asked.

"I think that's what I just said," Bree replied.

"What about the crime shows? They have to visit different locations every week," Chase said, "I mean think about it: they can't have their dead bodies always in the same place. People would notice."

"And yet, somehow, their crime scenes always look like parking lots, fishing docks, and the occasional hiking trail," Bree pointed out.

"Bree, you just don't understand criminals," Adam put in, "they always get people on the street. Those shows are just being realistic. That's what makes them so scary."

"Adam," Chase said slowly, "Crime shows aren't supposed to be scary. And people don't only get killed on streets. Sometimes they die inside of houses too."

"Nobody gets attacked indoors," Adam disagreed, "It's against the criminal code."

"Really, Adam? Really?"

Adam didn't respond in the traditional manner. Instead he sneezed, though Chase thought he detected some comment contained within it that wasn't inherent to sneezing.

"_Guys, you need to focus. What's the matter with you?"_ Mr. Davenport asked impatiently.

"We think Adam gave us the flu," Bree responded.

"_You mean you guys are sick?"_ Mr. Davenport asked, appalled, _"Why didn't you tell me?"_

"Would you have let us go on the mission?" Chase asked, sniffing a bit.

"_NO! Now get back in that chopper and come home! There's no telling how you might glitch when you're sick. Your abilities may not activate at all, or you may not be able to control them. Come home now!"_

There was a long pause while Adam, Bree and Chase exchanged looks with one another to be sure that they all felt the same way.

"Sorry, Mr. Davenport," Chase said, speaking for all of them, "But if you're responsible for the LEMP, then we are too. Besides, you told us how dangerous it is. We can't just let whoever stole it use it for their own purposes. And anyway, we're almost there. We just have to get the LEMP and go home. It's not like we're dealing with a super-villain, just a thief."

"_You don't know that for sure. No. Chase, you get your team back in that chopper and fly yourselves home this instant. You hear me, Chase? Chase!"_

But Chase had stuffed his ear piece in his pocket so he wouldn't have to listen anymore.

"Let's do this," Chase said.

"Mr. Davenport should really learn that you can't train people to be heroes and then expect them to quit just because things get a little tough," Adam commented, and the others agreed.

If any of them felt any doubts about their choice, none of them said so.

Getting into the toy store proved to be easier than they had thought it would be. The glass on the front door had been smashed and the door was now unlocked and partially open. Chase paused to examine it.

"I wonder why the store alarm didn't go off," Chase whispered quietly.

"Who cares?" Adam asked, "Let's go."

Had Chase known then that this store had no alarm, he might have felt less cautious. As it was, it seemed clear that they weren't about to deal with an amateur. Not only that, but it had just occurred to Chase for the first time that they might be dealing with more than one person.

Impatient, Adam pushed past Chase and entered the store. Bree looked at Chase, shrugged and followed Adam. Chase still hesitated. Something didn't feel right. He decided it must just be the flu. He followed his siblings into the darkened building.

"Hey!" Adam yelled from somewhere up ahead, "You! Put the stuffed animal down and nobody gets hurt! I said: Put it down!"

"Benji!" yelled an unfamiliar voice, in the dark, "Benji, help!"

Chase spotted Adam holding onto a boy who looked only slightly older than him. But not for long. Two things happened at the same time. One, Adam sneezed violently. Two, the boy he was holding onto stepped on Adam's foot.

"Ow!" Adam let go and the boy scampered off into the darkness.

Chase tried to track the boy visually, but it was dark and shadowy. However, he saw something much, much more dangerous. A young man was standing across the room holding the LEMP gun.

"How do you work this thing?!" he snarled, striking the device.

With an uneven whine, the LEMP gun began to power up. The young man, presumably the one called 'Benji', smiled and leveled the whirring device at Adam and Bree, who had come running when Adam cried out.

"Adam! Bree! Look out!" Chase shouted.

He dove across the room and activated his force field on instinct. The LEMP gun fired. It tore through Chase's force field with such electromagnetic force that it threw him backwards. Chase was flung through the front wall of the store, moderately protected from the impact by the remnants of his force field. Adam and Bree were thrown against a counter, whereupon they briefly struggled with their own senses, and writhed helplessly on the floor.

"Benji, come on! Let's go!" urged one of Benji's companions.

"Are they dead?" Asked the other.

"Who cares?" Benji snapped, "we better beat it before the cops show."

He dropped the LEMP gun. He wasn't sure what he'd done exactly, but he hadn't much liked the result and opted not to take the object with him. By the time Adam and Bree staggered to their feet, the three boys were gone.

"Adam? Adam, where are you?" Bree asked, feeling her way through the darkness, which seemed to her to be spinning about recklessly in utter disregard of the laws of physics.

"I'm over here," Adam replied, sounding far away, "I've got Chase."

"Come on," Bree said, "they got away. We'd better go home before things get any worse. You'll have to guide me because I can't see straight."

"Okay," Adam said.

Neither one of them thought to look for the LEMP gun, which lay on the floor where Benji had dropped it...


	11. Somewhere Else Alone

_Wednesday_

The sky was debating whether to turn that slowly paling gray that comes before sunrise or to just stay dark for another hour or so. The low wind moaned disconsolately to anyone who would listen.

Adam, Bree, Leo and Mr. Davenport had arrived in Exuro and were standing half a block away from Bart's Toy Emporium, which was patched together with police tape and ringed with black and whites.

"Alright, you three stay here," Mr. Davenport instructed, "I'll go talk to the police."

"What for?" Leo asked.

"They may have seen Chase. I don't think he's still here, not with all these policemen around. But they may have seen him or where he went. Heck, they may have arrested him."

"Let's go ask them then," Adam said, but Mr. Davenport put out a hand to stop him.

"That's what I'm going to do. I want you three to wait here. Especially Adam and Bree. There may have been a security camera in that shop."

"What?!" Bree practically squealed, "But we used our bionics in there!"

"It's okay. I don't think there was a camera. If there was, don't worry, I'll take care of it. Just... stay."

Mr. Davenport went down the block and across the street. Bree crossed her arms and attempted to facially convey her irritation to Leo and Adam. Neither of them seemed impressed. In fact, neither one of them was paying any attention to her whatsoever.

"Hey look," Leo said, "there's a cat in the road."

"Ooh, you know what?" Adam said, tapping Leo on the shoulder, "I bet Chase was turned into a cat!"

"Adam, no. Adam, we've been over this. Adam, come back!"

But it was too late. Adam was already down at the corner, trying to coax the enormous, supremely fluffy gray cat out of the street.

"Here, Chase. C'mere, Chasy," Adam snapped his fingers and whistled to the cat.

It peered at him through hooded yellow eyes in bafflement, and then proceeded to wash its face with one of its paws, thoroughly disinterested.

"Here, boy. C'mon, it's me, your brother. Adam. Come on, Chase," Adam whistled again.

The cat, for its part of the performance, lowered its paw delicately onto the icy road, took a sniffing breath and then opened its mouth in a gaping yawn, flashing a lovely set of pointy white teeth.

"Adam," Bree said, coming up behind him, "That's a cat, not Chase."

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone whistle for a cat," Leo confessed.

"That's probably because it doesn't work," Adam said, "I'm gonna go pick it up."

"Adam, don't!" Leo counseled, but too late, Adam had already stepped into the street.

"I don't see what you're so worried about," Bree said to Leo, her arms still crossed, "Even if a car hit him, Adam probably wouldn't be hurt."

"Maybe not," Leo replied slowly, "But the car might be. And someone might question why I have a brother who's made of bricks and concrete!"

"Good point," Bree admitted, "Adam! Get out of the street!"

Adam ignored them.

"Nice, Chasy. Good, Chasy. Just stay right there-"

The cat stood up and trotted between Adam's legs. It pranced up onto the sidewalk and came to Bree, who knelt and reached out a hand towards the cat. The animal sniffed her hand and rubbed its face on her.

"She always was your favorite," Adam pouted.

"Adam," Bree said patiently, stroking the cat, "this isn't Chase. It's somebody's pet."

"How can you tell it isn't a stray?" Leo asked.

"It's friendly for one," Bree replied, "It's well-groomed in spite of all the hair for two. But the biggest indication that this cat has an owner is that girl down the street who seems to be looking in the bushes for something. What do _you_ think she's looking for?"

"Lip gloss?" Leo guessed.

"Ooh, I bet she's looking for a flying purple people eater!" Adam exclaimed.

"Adam..." Bree shook her head and didn't finish.

"Sad thing is," Leo said quietly aside to Bree, "he probably doesn't even know that's a song."

"Wait, you're saying that's an actual thing and not just a product of Adam's deranged imagination?" Bree asked.

"You poor, sheltered child," Leo said by way of reply.

"Hey!" Bree shouted to the girl down the street, "Is this your cat?"

The girl turned and her eyes lit up on seeing the cat.

"Oh, Fluffles," she cried as she came up to them.

She knelt down and picked up the cat, who let out a brief meow of protest.

"You naughty kitty. First you got out last night and that nice boy rescued you from being flattened and then you do it again this morning. Are you trying to frighten me?"

"What boy?" Bree asked, at the same time as Adam said, "Was he doll sized?" and Leo added his two cents, "Has tall hair and looks confused by real life most of the time?"

"I don't know about 'doll sized'," the girl replied uncertainly after a moment of silence, "but he did look... well, he looked lost now that I think about it. He was dressed strangely too."

"All in black, including gloves?" Leo guessed.

Adam and Bree couldn't be held up as examples because they had changed into their regular clothes.

"Yeah, you know him?" the girl asked, tossing her head to get a long strand of hair out of her face.

"He's our brother," Bree explained, "Do you know where he is? We need to find him."

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head, "I noticed that he was hanging around the toy store last night, until the police showed up. I don't know where he went after that. You mean... you mean he really was lost?" her face took on a guilty expression, "I didn't even stop to ask him if he was okay. I mean, he saved my cat from being run over. And Fluffles scratched him, the ungrateful thing."

The cat chose this moment to meow petulantly.

Adam, Bree and Leo exchanged uneasy looks. Chase had been here. He'd obviously waited for them, only to be driven off by the locals. But... where would he go? Where _could_ he go? Not back to the chopper. They'd checked there, and the helicopter was where they'd left it. Besides, if Chase had taken the helicopter, he would have been home before now.

"You might ask one of the officers where he went," the girl suggested, "They probably helped him if he was lost or confused. I did see him talking to them from my window last night when I got up to get a drink of water. It was very late."

"Thanks, we'll ask," Leo said.

The girl smiled, cuddled her cat and headed back to her apartment.

"How are we gonna ask? Mr. Davenport told us to stay here," Adam reminded Leo.

"That's right," Leo said, pulling out his phone, "But he didn't say we couldn't text him."

Down the street, Mr. Davenport's phone chirped. He pulled it out and looked at the text.

"Um, excuse me, Officer?" Mr. Davenport engaged the attention of the nearest policeman, whose name tag identified him as Mendez, "You didn't happen to encounter a boy last night, did you? About sixteen, yea tall, brown hair-"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact," Mendez interrupted before Mr. Davenport could go on, "You his father? I don't mean to tell you your business, but that kid was pulling some kind of prank last night and-"

"No, no he wasn't," Mr. Davenport interrupted the interruption, "He needs help. I'm trying to find him."

"Well I haven't seen him since last night," Mendez said, "Hey, Palmer! You remember that kid from last night?"

"The one with the helicopter keys?" asked a somewhat distant officer.

"Yeah, that's the one. Has anybody seen him since then?"

"I think so," Palmer replied, "Eddie described a similar kid. You remember he got the call about that auto accident on First? Yeah, seems that kid was driving the car. I don't know how that came out. All three people involved went to the hospital, but I haven't talked to Eddie since."

Mr. Davenport felt his blood run cold. Chase had been in an accident? Been sent to the hospital? This was bad. Very, very bad.

"Could you tell me which hospital?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"This is the boy's father," Mendez said, even though Mr. Davenport had made no such claim.

"I could find out," Palmer said, then added curiously, "You mean that kid was on the level?"

"Seems so," Mendez replied with a shrug.

"Just when I think I've heard everything. I would have bet money that kid was pranking us."

"Chase usually only pranks his sister," Mr. Davenport said without pausing to think, "because when he's doing that with his brother, his brother isn't teasing him."

"Uh-huh," Mendez nodded slowly, then shook his head, "Well, we'll get the name of that hospital for you in just a minute. What did you say your name was?"

* * *

><p>They finally made it to the hospital, but the new was discouraging.<p>

"Yes, he was here," said the nurse at the reception desk, "But the gentleman he arrived with carried him out only a short while after they arrived. Strange, nobody in that accident seemed to be hurt. From what I heard, they were all very lucky to be alive."

"Uh-huh," Mr. Davenport said unhappily, "Well, thank you."

He turned towards where the kids were waiting nervously and shook his head.

"Chase was here, but someone took him away before the doctor could look at him. I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse," Mr. Davenport said, "On the one hand, that means our secret is still safe. On the other... someone wandered off with Chase. Who would do that? Especially right after an accident like that. Either they learned the truth and are helping him... or... or I'd rather not think about it."

"So where do we go from here?" Leo asked impatiently.

"I'm not sure," Mr. Davenport sighed, sinking into one of the waiting room chairs wearily.

The kids also took seats nearby. They had been so close. So close to getting their brother back. But now it seemed like he might be in greater danger than ever, and they had no way of finding him.

"Well, police keep records," Bree said, "Maybe the got the name of the man."

"Assuming he gave them his real name. He might not have," Mr. Davenport pointed out.

Bree looked down, crestfallen.

"Oh, Bree. I'm sorry. You're right. It's worth a try anyway. Come on, kids, let's go."

Bree brightened visibly as Mr. Davenport got up. The kids followed suit, Bree starting to get up last of all. As she did a wave of dizziness hit her and she staggered. Adam caught her arm.

"Bree!" Adam said in alarm.

"Bree, are you okay?" Leo asked.

"Oh no," Mr. Davenport said, having jumped several steps ahead of the others, "No, no, no."

"What?" Leo demanded, "What's wrong?"

"I can't be sure without running some tests," Mr. Davenport said distractedly, examining Bree more closely, "but it looks like I may not have solved the problem, only 'reset' it, slowed it down. Adam, you'll have to carry Bree. Leo, you stay with them. I'll go ahead and prepare the chopper for take off."

"But what about Chase?" Adam asked, a flash of worried anger in his eyes.

"Bree needs us now. She can't wait for us to find Chase. And neither can you. It won't be long before you start going downhill again too," Mr. Davenport said hurriedly, "Now do as I say, before the hospital staff notices anything is up. Hurry, Adam."

Adam obediently picked Bree up and gently carried her to the door, which Leo pushed open for him.

"Leo," Adam said, pausing at the door, "if it wasn't what Mr. Davenport said, then what's wrong with us?"

"I dunno, Adam. But don't worry, we'll figure this thing out. It'll be okay."

"Will it?" Adam asked, as though he thought Leo magically knew the answer to that, "Will it really?"

"Yeah," Leo said after too long a hesitation, "Yeah, Big D's a genius. He'll figure this out. Come on."


	12. The World that She Sees

Still Wednesday

_(we have now officially run out of flashbacks)_

Ruth got up and quickly ran to the door when it opened to admit her father into the apartment.

"Daddy! Oh, Daddy, I was so worried when you didn't come home last night," Ruth exclaimed as she threw her arms around her father's neck, "I was sure something awful had happened to you."

"Now, Ruth," her father said gently, "not everything that happens beyond these walls is necessarily awful. Now, before I tell you what happened, I want you do to something for me."

"Okay, Daddy. What?" Ruth asked.

"I want you to get a pillow and blanket from the closet and set them up on the couch. You know how we do when Uncle Eddie stays with us."

"Alright," Ruth said, "But... why? Uncle Eddie only comes to stay when Aunt Laurel takes their kids to visit her mother. She isn't doing that this Christmas."

"I know," Ruth's father said, "I'll explain it all in a few minutes. Okay?"

"Okay," Ruth nodded agreeably, "but be careful with the door. Fluffles has already gotten out twice."

"You smother that cat," her father told her, but his tone was gentle rather than condescending.

"If he would just stay inside where he belongs, I wouldn't have to. But he's always getting out and sitting in the road," Ruth said.

"Perhaps he gets bored in this stuffy apartment," was the soft reply.

Ruth flashed her father an angry look. They'd had this conversation before, and it seemed to her that her father wouldn't care if Fluffles _did_ get run over. But she didn't argue with him, and instead set about accomplishing the task he had given her. It wasn't difficult. She did most of the laundry around the house, and usually made the beds.

If it were left to her father or Benjamin, nothing would ever be washed. Or put away, for that matter. Of course, if it were up to her father, they wouldn't really have any things to put away. He was a man utterly devoid of decorative spirit. Anything that didn't have a precise function didn't interest him and anything that got in the way should be cast out of the house. He drew the line at people, it seemed. Benjamin had no useful function and was always in the way when he wasn't out getting into trouble. But they did keep _him_ around.

She put Fluffles in the bathroom, and he meowed in protest. Then she opened the door for her father, who she had noticed through the window was carrying something. As he came through the door, Ruth realized that he was carrying a person. Not just any person though.

"Oh, Daddy, you found him!" Ruth exclaimed, trying not to squeal in surprise.

"I'm not sure who found who," her father replied, setting his burden down on the couch, "but it's a good thing he's little. I'd never have made it up the stairs if he was any heavier."

Ruth's father sat down in his favorite easy chair, puffing slightly. Ruth knew her father was not a very physically fit man. Not only didn't he exercise much, he didn't eat right and drank too much. She was frankly surprised he could carry Fluffles up the stairs (it was usually he who retrieved the cat from the street for Ruth), much less a person.

"You're saying you know him?" Her father asked, gesturing toward the boy.

"Yes. Well, no. Not precisely. Sort of," Ruth stammered, "He saved Fluffles from being hit by a car. And then this morning some people were looking for him. They looked pretty worried about him. I think they said they were his siblings, but I'm not sure."

Ruth noticed her father's brow furrowing into a worried frown.

"What? What's wrong?" Ruth asked.

Her father then proceeded to tell her how he and Chase had come to be together, and described the clear fear Chase had exhibited in the hospital. Her father also described how Chase had saved his life.

"I wonder if those people were the ones he was afraid of," Ruth's father concluded, "I thought he should stay and let the doctor examine him, but he sounded so frightened, and so sure that he needed to get out... I couldn't just ignore that. So I brought him here."

"Let's not mention them to him," Ruth said after a moment, "When he wakes up, that is. He doesn't need to worry that he'll be found here. And besides, he might try to leave, to protect us."

"I agree," her father said, "And he doesn't need to be out on his own. Not with the storm coming and Christmas being tomorrow besides."

* * *

><p>Chase heard the unfamiliar voices distantly, but they didn't make him feel afraid. Though he did not exactly recognize the voices, he heard in their intonation echoes of the people that he knew and loved. Even though his awareness drifted about just beyond his reach, Chase began to slowly piece together what had happened up to now.<p>

He remembered the hospital, and when everything had come flooding back to him. He had also become aware that he was becoming increasingly dangerous as his bionics began to glitch and his various apps began to affect his behavior and thinking patterns. He'd done something he'd never done before, and hadn't even been sure he could do. He could connect to Adam and Bree remotely and take control of their bionics, and also shut them down. Well, this time he'd connected to himself, and shut down his own bionics. The result was that he'd passed out.

It was only a temporary shutdown, meant to briefly reset his systems, giving him more time to work with. Chase didn't know it, but he was already far ahead of Mr. Davenport. Not only did he know that a brief shutdown wouldn't solve the problem, but he was pretty sure what was causing it and how to solve it. Unfortunately, he needed to get back to the lab, and he'd shut down his GPS along with all his other bionics. It was only temporary.

When his systems returned to normal, he would be able to send out a signal that could be picked up by the lab computers, and Mr. Davenport would know where he was. Then all he'd have to do was stay put and wait for them to come and get him. The best place to do that was with the helicopter. Or it seemed that way to him anyway.

Then he remembered that he'd passed out in the hospital. That meant he was probably still there. His eyes snapped open and he found himself looking at a pale blue ceiling. He blinked at it, mildly confused. Without sitting up, he began to look around, taking in his surroundings.

He seemed to be in someone's living room.

Chase sat up slowly. His head hurt some and he let his breath out sharply.

"Easy, Chase. You're safe here," Chase looked towards the voice, and recognized the man in the pinstripe suit, "You're at my house. Or my apartment, rather."

"Oh," Chase said, nodding slowly, even though that statement had cleared up nothing for him.

To his right, something big and gray suddenly leaped up from the floor and landed on the back of the couch. Chase gazed at the poofy cat with its bright lemon yellow eyes. He barely remembered seeing it the night before, even though it had left a mark on his cheek that still stung. The cat let out a low meow.

"Fluffles, get down from there," Chase recognized the girl with dark hair from the night before, especially as he watched her sweep the protesting cat up into her arms, "Leave the nice boy alone," she told the cat, "He saved your life, you know. You should be grateful."

The cat meowed and twisted in her grip, determined to reclaim its spot on the couch.

Chase put his head in his hands and sighed. He was very tired. He was also more than a little sore from his various adventures. More than that though, he felt very alone, even in this man's living room.

He'd spent most of his childhood in a basement with his two siblings. They were constant annoyances, and when he wasn't the victim of their practical jokes, they were victims of his. But they were his siblings, his team, his friends, an integral part of who and what he was, and he missed them very much.

"Chase," the man was saying, "you seemed desperate to get out of the hospital earlier. May I ask why?"

Chase was silent for a moment, his mind racing. Of all the things he was, Chase was not a liar. Not that he'd never lied before, he had. But he was extraordinarily bad at it. He figured that probably ran in the family, since none of his relations were good at lying either. In fact, everyone of them was outstandingly awful at it. That didn't stop all of them from trying, which might seem a little odd considering some of them were geniuses and should have known better.

But if he told the truth, Chase would be exposing not only his secret, but also his siblings', not to mention Mr. Davenport's conduct. And then they would all be in trouble. Even if he thought he could trust this man, what if he couldn't trust the girl? And even if she said she would keep the secret, she or her father might well give it away accidentally.

"Is someone after you?" the man pressed when Chase remained silent, "Someone who might want to hurt you?"

"What?" Chase wondered where he'd gotten that idea, "No, it's not like that."

"If it was," the girl said, taking a seat in a nearby chair and settling the cat on her lap, "We could help. Or introduce you to people who could."

"I'm not running away from anyone," Chase insisted.

Ruth exchanged a look with her father. Neither of them really believed Chase. If they'd only known how terrible a liar he was, they probably would have. But they didn't, and so they maintained their silence where the people searching for him were concerned.

"Look," Chase said, feeling a twinge of impatience, "I'm not running away from anyone," he stood up, wincing as he did so, "and I want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me back at the hospital. But I have to go now."

"Chase, wait," the man said, rising from his chair.

"I can't. I can't explain it, but I've got to go. I need to go home," Chase said, backing towards the door, half afraid one or the other of his hosts might try to make him stay.

He didn't want to offend them, or hurt their feelings, but he also couldn't tell them why he had to go. He needed to find his way back to the chopper before his bionics came back online. That was the safest thing to do. He could not stay, even if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Chase said, nearly in arm's reach of the door, "My family is looking for me. They're probably worried. I have to go home."

That was true, at least. It was all he could give them anyway.

"We have a phone," the girl said, "Why don't you call them?"

Chase hesitated. He hadn't even thought of that. He didn't have his phone with him and his earpiece was broken, so he hadn't even thought about how _other_ people had phones. In fairness, he'd only remembered who he was in the hospital, shortly before passing out, so he hadn't had very long to think about it. Could it be so easy?

Chase didn't get to resolve that line of thought because the front door suddenly swung open behind him. Chase whirled, startled by the noise.

"You!" the newcomer snarled with equal measures of surprise and fury.

It was the young man from the toy shop. The one who had later found Chase in the alley. The one who had shot him, and later come after him with a bat. _Benjamin. Benji. One and the same._


	13. Searching for Things

"I don't understand how this could have happened," Mr. Davenport said, shaking his head, "Their systems reset, just like they should have. But their bionics are going haywire again. And it's happening faster this time because their systems haven't recovered from the last glitch fest."

"You're not saying you don't have an answer," Leo told him fiercely, "Because you can't be saying that. Not you. You're Donald Davenport, genius technical wizard guy. You invent things for a living. So invent a solution to this problem!"

"Leo," Mr. Davenport sighed, "It may not be that simple. We may not have any options."

"What does that mean?" Leo asked, then, when he didn't get a swift response, "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?"

"We may have to remove their chips. Permanently. Or at least for however long it takes me to figure out exactly what went wrong. Which will probably be never, because I'll never get my hands on the LEMP again, so I won't be able to find out what changes were made to it."

Mr. Davenport sighed again and shook his head.

"No," Leo shook his head, and grabbing Davenport by the shirt collar, "No, no, NO. You are going to fix this, Big D! You're going to fix it!"

"Leo, I don't even know what's broken. How am I supposed to fix that?" Mr. Davenport asked, gently pushing Leo off.

"I don't know. But that's why you're the inventor and I'm just the assistant."

"Oh sure, now you're okay with just being my assistant. That's cute," Mr. Davenport scoffed.

"Hey," Leo said, putting up his hands, "You yourself said I'm only good at breakin' things. And this thing is already done broke, so my work here is done."

"You're a lot of help."

They were right back where they'd started. In the lab, with Adam and Bree in their capsules, Mr. Davenport and Leo on the outside puzzling over what was wrong, the cockroach flicking its antennae at the various humans from inside its bottle... right back where they'd started. Nothing had changed.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Adam asked from inside his capsule.

He glanced over at Bree, who had passed out in hers. Then he looked back at Mr. Davenport and bit his lip nervously. There was something especially pathetic about a super-strong, nearly indestructible person looking scared.

"No, Adam," Mr. Davenport replied, "You're not in trouble. It's okay, I'm gonna fix this," he flashed Leo a glance, "I just... I don't know... how. Yet. But I will. I will figure this out. Leo," he turned to Leo, "how am I gonna figure this out?"

"You're asking me?" Leo asked, surprised.

"I could ask Eddy instead, but I don't think he'd be any use in this instance."

"When has Eddy ever been useful?" Leo wanted to know, "He's supposed to be smart, and a home security system. I haven't seen any evidence of either of those things."

"Hey!" Eddy protested, "that hurt my feelings!"

"You're a glorified emoticon," Leo told the computer, "Nobody cares about your precious feelings," Leo turned to Mr. Davenport curiously, "Does Eddy even have feelings?"

"He can simulate feelings," Mr. Davenport said.

"Close enough," Leo decided, "Anyway, we don't care. We're a little busy right now, in case you haven't noticed!"

"Oh I have," Eddy replied cheerily, "And I hope you all die horribly."

"And you have the gall to say I hurt your feelings?" Leo asked.

"Leo!" Mr. Davenport snapped, "Forget Eddy for the moment. We need to focus."

"Who's we?" Leo asked, "I'm not responsible for any of this."

"And you think I am!?" Mr. Davenport cried.

"You invented the LEMP, didn't you?"

Mr. Davenport growled inarticulately and his hands made not-so-subtle squeezing gestures. Then he exhaled loudly and turned back to Adam and Bree.

"How's it goin', Adam?" he asked.

"That bug is waving his feelers at me again," Adam replied, "It's creeping me out."

"Just... don't think about it," Mr. Davenport advised.

"I'm not," Adam assured him, "I'm just lookin' at it."

"You walked right into that one, Big D," Leo said.

* * *

><p>Chase was cornered. There was nowhere to run. But he was far from defenseless, even without his bionics. He was trained in martial arts, as well as having been conditioned to be resilient, he knew well how to attack and defend. Chase's elaborate move of choice was to duck when Benji went for him.<p>

Benji tripped and fell over Chase, his momentum carrying him right into the nearest wall as his shocked family looked on. Chase had turned and assumed a defensive position by the time Benji had landed on his own head. Benji, being the rather thick individual that he was, rolled his way back to his feet and put up his fists, swaying a bit unsteadily.

"Benjamin," the voice was the deep intonation of authority, the kind you don't go around ignoring, "Stop your foolishness. Come and sit on the couch next to your sister."

Benji thought about disobeying. But there's a perfect pitch some people can hit that's virtually impossible to resist or ignore. Benji's father had learned it somewhere between being a preacher, an exceptional businessman, the wooer of a beautiful woman and a dad.

Benji eased his way around the couch and sulkily plunked himself down next to Ruth.

"That's better," their father said, "Now tell me, Benjamin, what were you doing out all night?"

"C'mon, dad. I'm an adult now. I don't have a curfew," Benji replied in that whining tone children tend to use when their parents catch them doing something they ought not and then ask them to explain themselves.

"You do not," his father agreed, "But you live under my roof."

"I have a job," Benji said.

"But you do not pay rent. Even if you did, you would still be subject to house rules. Benjamin, you have brought trouble on this house."

"Like you never have," Benji snorted.

"I have. But that is all going to change. I could have been killed last night, but I was given another chance. So shall you be, if you want it. If you do not, then walk out that door right now, and do not come back."

Benji twitched. He looked past his father at where Chase was still standing, then past him to the door. Then he felt a delicate hand on his arm and looked to see that Ruth had slipped one arm under his and clasped her hands on him. She wasn't really holding on to him so much as silently asking him to stay.

"I take from your silence that you mean to stay," Benji's father said, "Which means that you want to be held accountable for your actions, just as I do. I know my flaws, I know my failings. But I also want to become a better person. That's something I can't do just by wanting it. I have to work hard, and I need your help. You Benjamin, and Ruth too."

Just as he finished saying this, they were startled by the sound of the door closing. When they looked around, they realized that Chase was gone.

"He's probably gone to turn me in to the cops," Benji remarked.

"And why would he do that?" Ruth asked curiously.

"Because I broke into Bart's Toy Emporium last night with some friends."

"What did you do that for?"

"You wouldn't ask that if you remembered how Christmas was before Mom left. I'd go look at the toys in the stores and then Mom and Dad would buy some for Christmas. I'd get to open them on Christmas Day and be surprised by what they were, but also excited because I remembered seeing them in the store. It was the knowing more than the not knowing. Knowing my parents could guess what I wanted most, just from how excited I was. Knowing that something, I wasn't sure what, that I wanted was going to appear under the tree as if by magic. All that went away when Mom left."

"So you broke into the store," Ruth said it for him, "to break all the toys so every other little kid would know what you'd lost."

"I guess," Benji replied with a shrug, "Mostly I just got to where I hated that place, and everything it stood for. So I thought it'd be fun to break in."

"But I don't get it," Ruth told him, "I never got presents like that. I'd just make a list based off of the things I saw in magazines and some of that would show up under the tree. Until we stopped celebrating Christmas altogether, that is. But I never hated the Toy Emporium."

"That's because you were never inside it. You never had it, so you didn't miss it when it was gone," their father said gently, "I had no idea you cared about things like that, Benjamin."

"That's not true. You just convinced yourself it didn't matter," Benji spat back.

"Yes. You're right," his father agreed, "I didn't want to do it, myself, because it reminded me of your mother. I reasoned that, if I didn't want to do it, then you must not want to either."

"Well, you were wrong."

"Yes, Benjamin. I see that. I've been wrong about a lot of things."

For some, coming full circle meant reuniting as a family and coming together to help one another work things out. But others... were not so lucky.

* * *

><p>Chase was back where he'd started. He'd left because it wouldn't be long before his bionics kicked back on, and then he'd be dangerous to be around. He needed to make his way back to the helicopter before anything worse happened. He needed to be away from people, where he wouldn't cause any damage.<p>

A glance at the sky told him that the cat was probably right about the oncoming storm. Clouds were gathering overhead, foreboding and heavy, blown in by a chilling wind. The sun, having made its brief appearance at sunrise, had since slid its way behind the cloud curtain like a shy girl.

To be fair, Chase was one up on his past self. He might be cold and alone and very far from home, but at least now he remembered where home was. At least now he knew that he had a family who would be looking for him. Who cared about him. That was more than he had before.

More than that, however, Chase had a way home. And that meant he had everything.

* * *

><p>Chase's bionics had kicked back in, but he didn't want to use them more than he had to. The risk that he would glitch was too great. Therefore, he elected not to use his pilot's app, instead activating his GPS and waiting. It was the safest thing to do, but it was also boring.<p>

Having spent most of his life in a basement, Chase had developed many coping mechanisms for boredom. Unfortunately, most of them involved Adam or Bree and the rest used bionics. Chase tried the radio in the helicopter.

_"Looks like it's gonna be another blustery day here in North Dakota. You can see here on the map there's a storm moving in over Bismarck-"_

Chase turned the radio off. He wasn't in North Dakota. He didn't need to know what the weather was like there. He'd always imagined it was cold and snowy and that 'blustery' was a word which should never be used to describe gale-force winds or blizzards. But what did he know? He was just a kid, not a weather reporter. Maybe 'blustery' was exactly the sort of word you should use in place of 'blizzard'.

Chase decided to turn the radio back on, but on a different station.

_"Traffic's a real bear in downtown Exuro this morning, Bob. I'm not sure whether it's all the ice on the road or the last-minute Christmas shoppers. Either way, my advice is to stay indoors."_

_"Oh I agree, Phil, but unfortunately many people have to commute. Let's try to give them the clearest routes, shall we?"_

Chase changed the station. This one was playing Christmas music.

_"Jingle bells chime in jingle bells time; dancing and prancing in jingle bell square, in the frosty air!"_

Bad Christmas music. He tried again. He was startled to find himself hearing the same song which the so-called band had played at the bar last night. Only this was better, and a different verse.

_"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 'God is not dead, nor doth he sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.'"_

Chase didn't remember that verse from the night before. It was possible he hadn't been paying much attention. In any case, he wasn't interested in being reminded of last night. He turned off the radio.


	14. Lonely Exile

Chase sat back in his seat. He crossed his arms. He tried to relax. He even tried taking a nap. But it didn't work. He felt like his insides were all tied up in knots, he was as keyed up as he'd been just before they'd gone on the mission. More even.

He felt like something was going to happen. Or was happening without him. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't explain it to himself either. It was along about this time that Chase realized he could probably call the lab using the chopper radio (different kind of radio). But when he tried, all he got was empty air. The receiver on the other end was turned off.

Chase decided to get out of the chopper and look down for awhile. He also decided not to think about just why the receiver back home might be off. He didn't really want to know.

From up here where the helicopter was, Exuro looked a lot smaller. He could see everywhere he'd been last night, even the hospital stood out sharply in the distance against the frosted sky. It was almost like the view out the window at home. Above all the other buildings, up on a little bit of a hill. He could see everything. Well... everything but home.

_"What's taking them so long?"_ Chase wondered to himself.

Chase leaned against the side of the helicopter and wished he was home. It didn't do any good, wishing didn't even make him feel any better. It made him feel worse, if that was at all possible. One thing you don't want to be doing on Christmas Eve is standing by yourself next to a helicopter on top of a cold building in a city you are unfamiliar with, wondering when or if you're ever going to go home. And you especially don't want to do it while you yourself are cold and hungry.

Chase hadn't even noticed he was hungry for a long time. He'd been too busy to notice, and also too tired. Being knocked unconscious is hardly the same as sleeping. Armed with that knowledge, it's easy to see that Chase was long overdue for some rest. He wasn't used to staying up all night. And it hadn't been an easy night either.

He wondered what his family was doing now. And when they would be coming for him. He didn't dare wonder_ if_ they were coming.

* * *

><p>Back at the lab, nobody had even noticed Chase had activated his GPS. As for why the receiver was turned off, that switch had been flipped hours ago when Leo set the bug bottle against it.<p>

Unlike Chase, however, nobody at the lab was hungry. Mr. Davenport couldn't think on an empty stomach. And, if he couldn't think, he couldn't solve the problem. So he'd deactivated the chips for the time being and they'd broken up the problem solving session in favor of eating lunch. None of them had eaten since yesterday afternoon (before the mission), so they can't be blamed for being hungry.

"I wonder what's taking your mom so long," Mr. Davenport said to Leo.

"It's Christmas Eve," Leo replied, "We should be surprised if she gets home by midnight."

Tasha had gone to pick up Leo's grandmother and finish some last minute shopping. She'd left in the morning, while they were still in Exuro and left a note that nobody had read until going upstairs to raid the fridge. Feeling neither energetic nor festive, they were eating sandwiches.

"She should have taken the chopper," Adam commented.

"She doesn't know how to fly a helicopter," Mr. Davenport pointed out.

"Plus, there are no helipads at the mall," Leo added, "Believe me, I've looked."

They continued eating, each of them trying not to think about the crisis they were facing, at least for a few minutes. Because they were not very successful, they couldn't think of anything to say.

"What if we're thinking about this all wrong?" Leo asked after awhile.

"What?" Mr. Davenport was startled out of an especially dismal line of thought by Leo's question.

"Well, we've been assuming that our problems began with the LEMP, but what if that's not the case?" Leo suggested, "I mean, Adam was blowing his nose all day yesterday, but we haven't heard a peep today."

"I haven't even cleared my throat since last night," Adam admitted.

"What's Adam's cold got to do with anything?" Mr. Davenport wanted to know.

"What if it wasn't a cold?" Leo queried.

"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Davenport demanded, "If it wasn't a cold, then what was it?"

"A reaction to something," Leo said, "Maybe it was just a symptom of something else. Something that was wreaking havoc on his system. Maybe the glitches from yesterday, before the mission, weren't caused by the flu. Maybe the flu was a glitch too."

"Leo, I'm not exactly a genius,-" Adam began.

"Darn right," Bree muttered under her breath, causing Adam to glare at her before going on.

"-but even I know that what you just said makes no sense."

"No, no," Mr. Davenport said thoughtfully, "Leo may be onto something."

"Okay, but what?" Bree asked.

"What if the glitches are being caused by some kind of physical ailment? Like the flu. You're human, so your emotions -as well as your physical state- can affect your bionics."

"Big D, that's a nice theory you've got there," Leo said, "But there's one itty bitty problem with it."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"If the glitches were caused by the flu, then why do the flu symptoms go away whenever we turn their bionics off?!" Leo demanded.

"I-... well... uh... have you got a better idea?" Mr. Davenport challenged.

"Indeed I do," Leo replied, "The flu was caused by a virus."

There was a moment of silence. Mr. Davenport blinked slowly and crossed his arms.

"Come again?"

"Not a real virus, a computer virus," Leo said.

Mr. Davenport tried to maintain a straight face, but laughter and mockery was inevitable.

Oh Leo, and here I thought you were a bright kid!" Mr. Davenport chuckled when he was able to speak through his laughter, "You can't get sick from a computer virus!"

"Maybe not," Leo replied levelly, though he was glaring daggers, "But Eddy can. And so could Adam, Bree and Chase. Their bionics affect them physically and mentally, we've seen it. When there's too much dust, Chase's sneeze is enough to level a small town. When we mistook the LEMP for a nightlight, Adam could only speak backward, Bree ran halfway 'round the world and Chase could only see in pixels. I could go on, but I think you get my point."

"Not quite," Mr. Davenport said, then admitted, "but I'm getting there."

"Okay, so we know their bionics affect them," Leo said slowly.

"I'm confused," Mr. Davenport huffed, "not stupid."

"Fine," Leo growled, "But if you're so smart, then why am I the only one who understands what I'm saying!?"

"Maybe you're not saying it very well," Adam suggested.

"_THANK YOU_, Adam!" Leo snarled sarcastically.

"Sheesh somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Adam said aside to Bree.

"Adam, nobody woke up this morning. Everybody was up all night."

"Oh yeah," Adam said, nodding slightly, "that would explain it too," he smiled at Leo sympathetically, "It looks like somebody needs a nap."

"Adam, you're my brother and I love you, but I need you to shut up now," Leo said, making an effort to control his voice, "Now, where was I?"

"You had some theory about a computer virus," Mr. Davenport supplied.

"Yeah. Yes. That," Leo nodded, "Anyway, what if the LEMP wasn't the problem? What if it was something else? Maybe the reason you can't find a solution is because you're looking in the wrong place."

"How would all three of them have gotten a computer virus?" Mr. Davenport wanted to know, "Chase is the only one besides me who downloads anything, and not only is he very careful, he doesn't download apps for anybody but himself."

"You shouldn't say it like that," Adam told him sternly, "When you say it like that, Chase sounds greedy. In reality, he just never downloads anything we want."

"He's also greedy," Bree put in, "but in a different way."

"Is there really more than one way to be greedy?" Adam asked.

"Can we focus?" Leo interrupted before Bree could answer.

"I dunno. Can we?" Adam wanted to know.

"Sometimes I think I was better off as an only child," Leo said.

"Me too," Adam admitted, nodding understandingly.

Leo opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. So he turned to Mr. Davenport instead.

"So you're sure there's no possible way they could have a virus?" he asked.

"Um..." Mr. Davenport hesitated.

"Nothing has been uploaded to all three of them from the internet?" Leo persisted.

"Well..."

"There is nothing that could even maybe be-"

"Alright!" Mr. Davenport cracked, "I admit it! I didn't actually work on their software update that week. I spent the whole week writing the pilot app for Chase. And also watching television. But mostly the pilot app."

"Wait..." Leo put up his hand to stop Mr. Davenport, "if you didn't design the software update, then... who did?"

"I dunno. Some guy who lives in Birmingham, wherever that is," Mr. Davenport said, "I found it online and it seemed perfect. And by the time I was done surfing the internet, there wasn't time for anything else. So I downloaded it, made enough modifications to call it my own and saved it."

"Big D, I've never gotten to say this," Leo said slowly, putting a hand on Mr. Davenport's arm, "but you really messed up. You are grounded. FOR-_EVER_!"

* * *

><p>Chase thought he would stay out of trouble. He also occasionally had delusions of grandeur. But he had actual reason to believe the former, if not the latter. He had successfully left behind the only people who knew he was here, found an out of the way spot, and activated his GPS locator beacon. Mr. Davenport would see that and come get him.<p>

Chase was later uncertain whether it was a glitch, or the right combination of his pacing around and the blowing wind that brought the smell of smoke to him. Perhaps it was both. It shouldn't have been that interesting. Many people have fireplaces, and it was a cold day. But there was something about it...

Chase turned towards where he thought it originated from. Something wasn't right. He could find out what, all he had to do was use his bionics. But that was dangerous. Each use of his abilities would push him that much closer to the edge. And he wasn't sure how close he was already. They could glitch, or affect his behavior. He might even activate his commando app.

These rationalizations bound him, preventing him from acting. The smoke smell intensified. Lives could be at stake. People might be hurt if he didn't act. Or if he did. There was no right answer. If it had only been a matter of his own safety, Chase wouldn't have hesitated, but he knew that he could really hurt someone by accident.

Chase paced around the helicopter, keeping his eyes aimed in the direction the smell came from. He couldn't see any smoke, but he could smell it, and that was driving him crazy.

This was one of those times when it would be really nice to have Adam or Bree around. They could always be counted on to talk Chase into doing the most reckless (yet heroic) thing possible. Their natural instinct to react was not overridden by a heavy dose of analytical thought. That might normally be a disadvantage to them, but right now it would be easier (and probably better) to either ignore the smoke or respond to it. Trying to decide which was best was impossible using logic, because there was no guarantee anyone was or wasn't in danger, nor was their a guarantee that Chase would glitch in a way which might ultimately be more dangerous than the fire itself.


	15. The Blazing Yule Before Us

"If I had a coin, I would flip it," Chase said aloud, then checked himself, "What am I saying? I sound like Adam."

Chase stopped pacing as it hit him. Adam, of course! He just needed to think like Adam. Already he could feel logic disappearing from his thoughts as he pursued this new course. It was easier to think irrationally than he'd thought.

"Okay, so what does Adam think with?" Chase wondered aloud, pacing thoughtfully now, "Not his brain, obviously. His stomach? No. If he thought with his stomach, he wouldn't eat some of the things he does because he'd hear his stomach complaining before he'd even eaten anything. Unless he does think with his stomach, but completely misinterprets everything it tells him. I'd believe that. Okay, so what is my stomach telling me?"

Chase stood still and tried listening to his stomach. After a few seconds, he determined that the only thing his stomach was telling him was that it was empty. Listening to the rest of his body provided him with additional details. His muscles were tired, his brain felt a little foggy, his lungs hurt from breathing cold air and his throat was getting sore for the same reason. His hands were numb and didn't really tell him much of anything. His back felt like it had been used to hold someone's sack of bricks while they waited for a bus. One of his shoulders felt strained, the other was more apathetic than anything.

"Well that was a waste of time, and probably the stupidest thing I've-" Chase broke off.

Some part of him -perhaps his nerves because it almost physically hurt to ignore it- was telling him to go. That there were people in danger, and every second he wasted brought them closer to disaster. It reminded him how long it had taken the police to show up to a building on a main street whose wall had a hole blasted in it. If there were people trapped, they didn't have that kind of time.

Chase used his abilities to analyze the properties of the smoke. It was such a thin waft carried by the wind that it was difficult to pin it down. But Chase could perceive enough to know that the things which were burning should not be burning. Wood, but also plastics and fabrics among other things. The sort of things you had in your house, but not the sort of things you put in your fireplace.

Chase used his abilities to pinpoint the location. It was only a mile and a half away. It wouldn't take any time at all if Bree was here. But she wasn't. As it was, Chase was faster than most people and had the sense to conserve enough energy to function once he arrived at his destination.

Chase started to go, but then hesitated. Supposing he shut off his bionics until he arrived? That might buy him time, and make this endeavor less risky in some way. And supposing he only activated the abilities he might be able to use? Which would mean leaving the GPS locator beacon offline. Which would mean nobody would be able to-

Chase broke off that line of thought. One, because it didn't matter anymore. He was going, and that was the end of it. Two, because he'd thought of a solution. All he had to do was transmit the coordinates of his destination to Adam. He'd done it before.

"Transmitting coordinates now," it was unnecessary to say it aloud, because there was no one to hear him, but it made Chase feel better anyhow.

* * *

><p>"Ooh!" Adam exclaimed suddenly.<p>

His chip had been reactivated so that Mr. Davenport could test solutions. The timing couldn't have been better. Nor would it later seem believable that it was entirely a coincidence.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Davenport asked, immediately concerned.

"Nothing's wrong," Adam replied, "I just got some coordinates is all."

"What!?" Mr. Davenport practically shouted.

"Chase sent them," Adam said, almost defensively.

"Can he do that?" Leo asked.

"Do you really care about that right now?" Mr. Davenport retorted, "If Chase sent Adam coordinates he must be in trouble. But why didn't he just activate his GPS locator beacon...- Leo, stop sitting on my computer! And get that roach off the radio! See, here, his beacon was activated. We just didn't notice. It isn't active anymore."

"What does that mean?" Leo asked.

"I wish I knew," Mr. Davenport replied, "But his beacon puts him a mile or so away from the coordinates he sent. Maybe that's where he's going. Bree could run there in a second, if she wasn't sidelined."

"Mr. Davenport," Bree protested, "Chase is out there, and his bionics haven't even been reset. If he can do it, then I can too."

"Me too," Adam called from inside his capsule.

"He's our brother," Bree said when Mr. Davenport still looked dubious, "He needs us."

"You know that's right," Adam said.

"Well okay," Mr. Davenport sighed, "But first, let's reset Adam's chip."

"That'll take an hour!" Bree cried.

"It's still faster than flying the helicopter," Leo pointed out.

"Don't worry," Mr. Davenport added when Bree still looked upset, "Chase can take care of himself. He's waited for us this long, another hour isn't going to kill him."

"It might," Adam disagreed, "if he got stuck in a crypt with no oxygen. Or if the streets are flowing with lava, slowly being melted away by-"

"THANK YOU-" Mr. Davenport shouted, then lowered his voice, "-Adam. That's enough."

"Those are all pretty unlikely," Leo said, seeing the renewed fear in Bree's eyes, "If there was lava in the streets, we'd have heard about it in the news. And what would Chase be doing in crypt?"

"Suffocating if it wasn't well ventilated," Adam volunteered.

"There are no crypts in Exuro," Mr. Davenport assured Bree.

"How do you know?" Adam asked.

Mr. Davenport glared at him, then jerked his head towards Bree, who was biting her lip fearfully.

"What if I went without Adam?" Bree suggested.

"Adam's the one who has the coordinates," Leo reminded her.

With a sound of immense frustration, Bree flung herself down in a chair and spun it.

"It's okay, Bree," Adam said helpfully, having at last sort of noticed his sister's distress, "Chase is our team leader. He's the one who yells at us when we do the wrong stuff, remember? Since he always thinks he knows what he's doing, he probably doesn't need us there to prove him wrong."

"That was _this_ close to being helpful," Leo said, holding his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart.

"Hey, I tried," Adam shrugged.

* * *

><p>As anyone who runs, knows someone who runs, has seen a documentary, has internet or can do any kind of math knows, it did not take Chase an hour to reach the site of the fire. This was probably a good thing for everyone involved but Chase. Fire is a swift creature once it gets started, and this one was fully fledged, but still fairly contained.<p>

There was very little smoke escaping from the chimney of the little two story house, just barely enough to tint the air near the roof a dirty gray. Nobody would notice it, or question it. But the windows on the first floor were black with smoke, except for spots where the fire was flicking menacing fingers of sinister flame at the glass. The smoke was thickest on the second floor, and seemed to be making an effort to push its way through the cracks of the upstairs windows.

Chase didn't know how you were supposed to enter a burning building. He figured if you looked it up on the internet, the first result would be something like: Don't. Ever. It's a bad idea.

Probably sound advice, especially if you were someone who didn't know what they were doing. But Chase had something the average individual didn't. Bionic hearing. He could hear coughing coming from inside, nearly drowned out by the ferocious roar of the fire. He could even hear heartbeats, growing fainter by the second.

His doubt was entirely gone by this point. People needed saving, no maybes about it. And they needed it now, not in a few minutes when he could find a phone and call the fire department. Chase also had something else most people didn't. He was very durable. He could take more heat, smoke and flames than any ordinary person. And his super senses would permit him to navigate the house where anyone else would be rendered blind.

That didn't make it safe. It wasn't. Not by a long shot. But Chase didn't care.

Having located the four people trapped in the house, and possibly a pet as well, Chase used his molecularkinesis to rip their front door from its hinges. He didn't expect they would be needing it any time soon. He also didn't think about how that would look to anyone examining the scene later.

In fact, Chase spared no thoughts for what might happen later. As far ahead as he was thinking was getting back out once he reached the victims of the fire. He had to get in and out four times. No, scratch that. Five times. He needed to check that potential heartbeat. He wasn't sure he'd really heard it at all, but it was still worth checking.

Chase wasn't sure if he should go upstairs first, where the smoke was thickest, or stay downstairs where the fire was and work his way up. He figured it was probably covered in firefighter training, but that was something he'd never taken. Of all the things he had studied, firefighting was not one of those things. In retrospect, it would have been a useful skill to have learned. But it was a little late for that now. Hindsight seemed to have only one purpose, and that was to make you look back and go "Whoa, I made a really bad decision there". Which wasn't, on the whole, very helpful.

Chase decided to move the people near the fire first. The nearest victim was in the living room, which had very nearly finished going up in flames. It was from here that the fire had spread, beginning with a spark which had hopped out of the fireplace.

Some background part of Chase's mind noted that the fireplace was improperly installed. The smoke went into the walls of the house instead of up the chimney. Because it was going into the walls instead of billowing out, nobody had noticed. The air became toxic and the occupants passed out. From there it was a short hop to fire spreading all over the house. Or that was Chase's theory, constructed in roughly eight seconds while he was trying to figure out how to lift the elderly lady lying on the couch in front of the fire place. He didn't think about it anymore after that.

Chase's problem with the elderly lady wasn't that she might be too heavy, it was because he didn't know how fragile she might be. He knew the elderly were frail, and there were many things you could do with a young person that you shouldn't do with an elderly one. He wasn't sure if slinging them over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes was one of the things you shouldn't do.

That would certainly be the easiest thing to do, because then the weight would be somewhat balanced, and he would be using his legs more than his back or shoulders. But being the easiest thing to do didn't make it the right thing to do.

In the end, he decided to pick her up and carry her like an infant, just to be on the safe side. He hoped he wouldn't find any more old people in the house, because carrying dead weight in that manner was exhausting.


	16. An Open Fire

Fire is not considered to be a living thing. The main reason for this seems to be "because the experts said so". There seems to be some debate on what exactly "alive" is, and which of the criteria for "alive" fire fails to meet. Most commonly, it is decided that fire cannot reproduce, in spite of the fact that a single flame can spread over a large area, and sparks can hop (to use the technical definition) off the main fire and start new fires of their own. Sometimes fire is defeated by its supposed inability to adapt. Basically, when you cut off its supply of oxygen, it keels over dead. By the same token, if you take an animal and put it in an empty box for long enough, the animal will starve (or so it's been said. Most people have never tested that theory).

So fire is not alive. And yet it grows, spreads, multiplies and moves from place to place, feeding off whatever it can burn. Some fires are unsuccessful at survival and die in a short while, in spite of having the right start. Other fires spread and become out of control at an unbelievable rate. Does fire have a personality? No, because it's not alive. Scientists and the internet tell us that, so it must be true.

The reason any of this is relevant is because Chase was in the midst of battling a fire, and was having a hard time remembering that fire wasn't alive, and therefore it couldn't really be chasing him around the house and trying to block the exits before he got to them.

But if it wasn't alive, why did it seem to be grinning?

The logic fragmented further as Chase's mind tried to analyze what made him alive and discovered most everything he did was just a result of the right chemicals mixing at the right time to produce a specific result. Chase knew by this point that the smoke-choked atmosphere was getting to him.

By the time Chase found himself dragging a man two or three times his size out of the burning kitchen and through the living room, he had graduated from the sensible to the slightly insane.

If he was put on trial, what defense would he use to prove that he was alive?

Chase had to put that thought on hold to negotiate the porch steps without damaging the person he was dragging. He would have carried the man, but the man was too big and heavy to try and figure out how to heft onto his shoulders. Chase was pretty sure that you weren't supposed to drag victims along behind you like a little red wagon, but he also didn't see that he had much of a choice. It was either that or just abandon the man to the greedy fire which had been cavorting about the counter-tops.

He left the man on the lawn (which wasn't much of a lawn in the winter, being covered with snow and all) next to the elderly lady he'd pulled from the fire earlier. Two, maybe three, people left. Those were on the second floor. Chase wondered if fire liked staircases as well as it liked counters and hearth rugs.

On the way up the stairs, Chase wondered if fire would make a good prosecutor. He had the sinking feeling that things were only going to get stranger upstairs, where the smoke was the thickest. One thing he did know was that people often didn't die as a result of flames in a house-fire, but from smoke inhalation. Which meant he probably should have started upstairs and worked his way down because smoke rises.

Too late now. Hindsight was doing him no favors today.

At the top of the stairs, Chase glanced back to see that a thin ribbon of orange flame was snaking its way up the wooden banister. It seemed to be eagerly following him, in spite of not being alive.

Chase looked up and down the hall at the top of the stairs. In the smoke and fire, his scan vision proved almost worthless. He tried his super hearing, trying to pinpoint the heartbeats. The sound of the fire reached deafening proportions. Chase could hear the building creaking and moaning as its supports began to fail. He could hear the bits of ceiling whispering to one another that they were going to fall soon. Everything was so loud, and the noise was coming from all directions.

Chase felt slightly dizzy with all the input and swayed slightly. He shook his head and coughed. This was getting him nowhere. He would have to do things the way ordinary people did. Check one room at a time, until he found what he was looking for.

His super senses chose that moment to glitch and he sneezed so hard that he fell backward into a sitting position. His hearing kicked in again, filling his head with irritating white noise. It took him a few seconds to get things back under control and regain his feet.

The first door he tried turned out to be a linen closet. The fire, following close at Chase's heels, seemed interested in this. It slipped inside and ignited the corner of a bed-sheet which was hanging down. Delighted, it proceeded to climb up from shelf to shelf, making a hideous squealing sound when it found some flame retardant sheets in the back of the closet. Chase closed the door and hoped he'd imagined the pleased gurgling sound the fire made when it found the extra bath towels.

"So that's why we were never allowed to play with fire," Chase said to himself.

The fire slithering behind him in the hallway suddenly seemed to see a painting hanging on the wall and split off a runner to investigate. Chase really hoped he was seeing things, because this was bringing up all sorts of questions for him about the nature of things.

The next door revealed a bathroom. The fire hissed when it was met by the linoleum flooring. It played about the threshold, but the floor preferred to melt rather than burn. It would have to try a different tactic to get into that room. Chase closed the door. The fire didn't follow him for the moment, seeming distracted and thoroughly dismayed by the bathroom's defense system.

Chase didn't really like the impression that the fire had feelings about and reactions to its environment. He had already decided to blame everything he had seen or might see on smoke inhalation. He was coughing almost continuously, so it was a plausible excuse.

The third door turned out to be for a bedroom. Two people were inside, one tucked into the bed, the other in a chair beside the bed, both were unconscious. Closer inspection revealed the person in the chair was a woman, the one in bed was an eight-year-old girl.

Chase didn't even think. It was pure instinct to pick the girl up first. He didn't stop and wonder about things such as lung capacity, he didn't have energy left for that. He just acted on first impulse, a sure sign that his brain was shutting down.

He took the stairs two at a time, trying not to notice that the fire had climbed down from the banister and was now testing the effects of flame on carpeting. Pretty soon, the stairs would be engulfed in flame. Chase didn't think about it. Time was running out, but he couldn't go any faster. He could only work as quickly as he could, which was seeming slower all the time.

Downstairs and out the door, Chase found that the man he'd dragged from the house was beginning to rouse. He was coughing and moaning now and then. Chase set the girl down next to him, and resisted the urge to pause for a moment to see if the girl or the elderly lady were still breathing. The lady had been breathing when he put her down, the girl... Chase didn't think about it.

Fire hissed at the edges of the doorway as Chase ducked back inside, spreading swiftly now from its point of origin in the living room. It roared across the carpeted floor after him, and Chase was reasonably convinced that this would have to be his last trip. He felt bad for the family pet, but there was no chance he could get in and out again. Not with the fire being as lively as it was. Besides, the smoke and heat were so intense that Chase knew he was on the verge of passing out.

The fire on the stairs was crackling merrily and nipped at his heels as Chase bounded up them. He knew where he was going this time, and didn't hesitate or look around much. He didn't really want to see that the ceiling was about to cave in, or that the fire was gnawing a hole through the floorboards.

Chase lifted the woman out of the chair and hefted her over his shoulder. As he turned, some of the ceiling in front of him suddenly gave way. Chase turned and ducked, instinctively shielding the woman with his body. Sparks and debris pelted him, but the flames which had ridden down on the smoldering bit of ceiling hadn't the strength to keep going and soon died out.

Chase got up and edged around the wreckage to get to the door. He went down the hall and paused uneasily at the stairs. It seemed like a wall of fire was barring his way. Chase backed away in response to the heat, and looked around desperately. There wasn't another way out. Like most houses, this one had but one way down from the second floor.

The woman began to murmur weakly.

"Shh, save your breath," Chase hissed between coughs.

"The baby..." she whispered hoarsely, "the baby..."

Chase felt his blood run suddenly cold. When he'd heard that faint heartbeat, he hadn't thought for an instant that it might belong to an infant. But what if the woman wasn't talking about the eight-year-old girl? What if there was still a baby in this house?

Chase shook his head. One problem at a time. Maybe his force field would be of some use against the fire. It had to be better than nothing.

Chase took a shallow, coughing breath and flung himself off the landing. It was more of a jump than anything, and he skipped most of the steps on the way down. Chase wasn't especially good at moving and holding up his force field at the same time. In fact, most of the time he endeavored to be very still when using it. It was hard to do anything else and still maintain control of his abilities.

He tripped on the last step and tumbled to the floor. The woman rolled away from him, but didn't go far. Shaking his head, dizzy and half-blinded by the smoke, Chase got to his feet and picked up the woman again. He didn't quite manage to carry her this time, it was really more like dragging. Either way, it got the job done. He deposited her with the others and floundered through the snow in the yard to get back to the porch. The snow seemed deeper than before, colder too.

Chase made it to the porch, but it took all his willpower to actually go inside. It was so hot and dark inside the house, and he was so tired. But he did go inside, and once more turned to the stairs.

How he made it up the stairs that last time without being seriously hurt, Chase was never sure. But he did. In spite of his exhaustion, Chase activated his super hearing. He couldn't take the time to open all the doors that were left, to go searching for that last person. He hadn't the time, and neither did they.

The fire howled, and the house was shrieking to its foundations. There was too much noise. Too much of it. Chase closed his eyes and fought to concentrate, to ignore the sounds which didn't matter. Then, only faintly, he heard it. The same heartbeat as earlier. He opened his eyes and went for the little white door at the end of the hall. The handle was too hot to touch, so he pushed it open with molecularkinesis and stepped into the room.

The room was painted blue, with planets and stars hanging over the white, wooden crib situated in the middle of the room. Fire was snaking up the walls, creeping across the floor, prowling towards the crib like a predator towards prey. Chase went to the crib and picked up the baby, who was alarmingly still.

He turned to go, but the ceiling caved near the doorway, mostly blocking it. Beyond the debris, Chase could see the floor sinking downwards, the fire sweeping across the ceiling, the hallway he'd been standing in disappearing in a matter of seconds now that the fire was well established.

Chase was trapped!


	17. A Walk Around the World

"I can't believe it," Bree cried, burying her face in her hands miserably, "He was here. Chase was right here! And we missed him! Again!"

Adam looked from Bree to the charred shell which stood as the only remains of what had once been a five person household. Adam and Bree had arrived to find firetrucks camped out in the street, and firemen working to still what was left of the flames before they spread to another house.

Bree had asked a bystander what had happened. The man had said that five people had been trapped in the burning house, including an old woman and a baby. A boy had rescued them, but hadn't hung around after the fact. He'd been gone before the firemen arrived. The bystander, who turned out to be the next-door neighbor of the family, said he hadn't even smelled any smoke. He hadn't noticed anything was wrong until he looked out his window to see if it was snowing and saw -or thought he saw- someone flying out the second story window of his neighbor's house.

Actually, he'd admitted that it was more like falling than flying. It was his supposition that the unknown rescuer had found himself trapped in the baby's room, broken the window and jumped out, hoping that the snow would cushion the fall. The baby, he said, was going to be fine, according to the paramedics who'd looked over the victims. Actually, all of them were going to be fine.

"It was the darnedest thing," the man had said, "the kid set the baby down with the others out front, then acted spooked, like a deer in the road. And then he took off. A few minutes later, I heard the sirens."

And that left Adam and Bree exactly where they'd been this morning. Their problem was still unsolved, and they still hadn't found Chase. Additionally, there was no telling whether or not he'd been hurt in the fire. Doubtless he'd used his bionics, and that was bad enough.

"It's almost like somebody doesn't want us to find him!" Bree exclaimed.

Adam could tell she was about to cry. It wounded him deeply to see her so unhappy, but he had no idea what to do about it. So he did the only thing he could think of. He caught her arm and pulled her into a hug.

"It's okay, Bree," he said gently, "We'll find him."

He bit his lip, wondering if that was a lie. They'd already been just a few minutes too late more times than he could count. And, since they had no idea where Chase might have gone after he left the scene of the fire, they would just have to go back home, once again empty-handed.

"He's okay," Adam went on when Bree started to cry for real, burying her face in his shoulder, "He's got to be. He's the smartest of us, or he's supposed to be. So he can probably take care of himself better than we can, right?"

His own voice was beginning to crack, so Adam fell silent and swallowed hard.

"Why would he run away?" Bree asked, pulling her face away so she could look up at him, "He sent us the coordinates, he had to know we were coming."

Now Adam knew how upset his sister really was. She was asking him questions. She never asked him questions. Not if she expected a rational answer. Adam wondered what she would consider a rational answer.

"Maybe he's scared of firemen," Adam suggested.

He felt like maybe that wasn't a rational answer. But apparently it was.

"Or maybe the paramedics," Bree said slowly, "They'd want to take him to the hospital. And he couldn't let them do that, because that would risk revealing his bionics."

Adam puzzled over that. He wasn't sure what Bree was talking about, but it seemed to be making her feel better. He decided that maybe he should find out why that might be.

"What's a paramedic?" Adam asked, "And why would they take Chase anywhere he didn't want to go?"

"Because he's not an adult, legally speaking. If he was, and was fully conscious, he could refuse treatment. But he's just a kid. So they'd need to contact his parents."

"So why didn't he stick around and have them call Mr. Davenport?" Adam asked.

"Because he already called Mr. Davenport," Bree replied, "When he sent you those coordinates. He knew that if we weren't coming in response to that, calling us on the phone wouldn't help. He had to leave in order to protect himself. To protect us too."

Adam thought that was all very confusing.

"If I'd only been here..." Bree shook her head, leaning against Adam, "I could have put the fire out in a minute. I should have been here."

"But all the people are okay, right?" Adam asked, "All they lost was their house. And their furniture and probably most of their food... yeah, okay. I see what you mean."

"No, Adam," Bree said, pulling away from him, "You were right the first time," she smiled, a fragile sort of smile, "Possessions can be replaced. They still have their lives. And that's good enough."

"Oh good," Adam said, feeling relieved that Bree was beginning to act like her normal self again, "Does that mean that we can go home now?"

"We probably should," Bree admitted reluctantly, "Mr. Davenport still needs to fix us, and we have no clue where Chase has gone. But... I don't want to leave without him. Not again."

"Neither do I," Adam said, "So where do we start looking for him?"

"Adam, do you know what 'no clue' means?" Bree asked.

"Not a clue," Adam responded.

"I didn't think so...," Bree said, then added sharply, "Wait... what?"

* * *

><p>Bree was right. About everything. Chase had fled because he realized that he'd be taken to the hospital. He hadn't thought about being able to call his father or stall by demanding his own doctor. In fact, he wasn't thinking about much of anything by the time he staggered away from the house fire.<p>

He'd had to use his bionics a lot in the last few minutes, ending with activating his force shield while tumbling out of the window he'd shattered with molecularkinesis. Even with that combined with the cushion of snow at the bottom, Chase felt the wind get knocked out of him. His back felt bruised where he'd hit, and he had acquired a small cut from a glass shard, which was now blending in nicely with the cat scratches from the night before.

It had been easier than one might think to evade the bystanders and disappear into someone's hedges. But getting farther than that wasn't so easy. Chase had been acting under power of adrenalin brought on by fear and the need to save those people. But his energy reserves had been just about tapped out.

He'd come so far, but he'd reached the end of his rope. His GPS had been knocked out by the impact when he fell out of the window, and the rest of his bionics seemed to be so burned out that they couldn't even glitch. He'd been basically stripped of his abilities, and he didn't even have the energy to care.

When Chase had cut and run from the fire, he'd gone away from where the helicopter was located. Not for no reason, because the firetrucks were coming from that direction. But now they stood between him and his ride. He couldn't go back, and he didn't feel like he had the strength to go around.

But he had to try. It was the only hope he had of getting back home. And he did want to go home. More than anything, he just wanted to go _home_.

Chase followed the winding neighborhood road, past houses crowned with unlit Christmas decorations, trees wrapped in colorful strings of lights standing watch over the plastic holiday-themed figures in the yards. There was something sad and sort of junky looking about Christmas decorations in the daylight, like someone trying to fake good cheer when they're miserable inside.

They seemed to be a reflection of what Chase was feeling. Like there was a party and all his friends were going, but he hadn't been invited. What he felt was the kind of deep self pity that comes from being tired, cold, hungry and rather unappreciated and largely ignored despite your best efforts.

He'd tried his hardest, but here he was, right back where he'd started. He could tell that even his memory was beginning to go again, though he wasn't sure if that was being caused by exhaustion or a glitch. Either way, it wouldn't be long before he was lost in addition to everything else.

Not that it mattered. Nobody was coming for him. Nobody even seemed to know that he was lost. He wondered what had happened to his family. He remembered that Adam and Bree had been gone when he woke up. He didn't know why or where they'd gone. But nobody had come when he sent the coordinates, which could only mean that they couldn't for some reason.

He'd also tried contacting the lab, with no luck there either. Where had they gone? What had happened to them? Were they alright? Would he ever see them again?

The final question seemed to sap the last of his strength. He tripped and fell, like a rug had been pulled out from under him. He lay on the snowy sidewalk, letting the cold and wet sink in. He didn't feel like getting up. It seemed like too much work, and there didn't seem to be any point.

And so he lay in the snow, waiting. Waiting for it all to go away. Waiting for it to be over.

He had nowhere else to go.

* * *

><p>"We need to try and think like Chase," Adam said, then paused before adding quizzically, "What does Chase usually do when he gets lost?"<p>

"Chase doesn't get lost, Adam," Bree replied a trifle hotly, "_You_ get lost. And when you get lost, we put up posters because nobody knows what you might do or where you might go."

"So let's put up posters," Adam suggested, "They could say 'Lost, one brother. Answers to the name of Chase. Does not come when called. If you spot him, try luring him into your car with expensive gadgets'."

"Adam..." Bree changed her mind and shook her head, "Never mind. That's not practical."

"So?" Adam asked with a flash of rare temper, "We've tried the practical, the rational and the logical. Don't you think it's time to give something else a try? We've done everything that makes sense already, there's no point in trying it again."

"So your recommendation is that we do something which makes no sense?" Bree scoffed, "Brilliant."

"Well what do you suggest? Calling him on the phone? It won't work, because he doesn't _have_ one!" this last loudly stated remark drew stares from bystanders.

Adam looked around and seemed to be embarrassed, because he didn't say anything else. They were still at the site of the fire, because they had no reason to leave until they figured out what they were doing. And it seemed like that was going to take awhile.

"You know," Adam said slowly, lowering his voice, "I think I understand why Mr. Davenport always puts Chase in charge of our Missions. This decision making stuff is hard."

"Adam, it's great that you're growing as a person and coming to all sorts of realizations about reality," Bree replied quietly, then shouted, "But that isn't helping right now!"

Adam flinched as the stares of the bystanders came to land on them again.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else," Adam suggested hopefully, "I'm beginning to see why the tigers at the zoo look so unhappy when I stare at them. It's creepy."


	18. There to be Found

Trying to think like Chase led Adam and Bree back to the helicopter. Bree reasoned that Chase would have to come back here. It was the only place that made sense. But as the minutes ticked away, she began to feel her confidence tremble. Chase should have been here by now. If he was coming at all.

But she didn't want to say so aloud. For one thing, she had no other ideas. For another, she didn't want to admit she was wrong, especially not to Adam, who had said that Chase wouldn't be here. His reasoning was that it would be sensible for Chase to come here. And it was Adam's opinion that good sense had gone out the window and they should stop trying to use it as their guide.

If Bree admitted that she was wrong, Adam would use that as leverage to push his own belief that they should do something ridiculous and look somewhere Chase shouldn't be in order to find him. He'd even suggested wandering the neighborhood near the burned house. He wanted to beat the bushes in case Chase was hiding under one of them. Bree had laughed at the idea and insisted they come here instead.

But... what if she was wrong?

"You know what?" Adam asked, glancing at Bree.

"What?"

"I don't think we're very good at thinking like Chase."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"I dunno. Just a thought that occurred to me while I was looking for crumbs in the back seat of the chopper."

"Why were you- No. I don't need an answer that badly."

"Cracker crumbs?" Adam asked, holding out his hand, which was full of crumbs.

"Um... no. No, I think I'm good."

Adam shrugged, "More for me."

* * *

><p>Benji wasn't sure what had suddenly changed. He'd been hurting people for a long time, refusing to learn from his own mistakes and getting in trouble time and again.<p>

Maybe it was knowing that the person he had attacked the night before was the self-same person who had later saved his father's life. Maybe it was realizing that the thing he had stolen from his employer was stranger and perhaps more dangerous than anything he'd imagined. Maybe it was just seeing all the Christmas lights everywhere, and realizing he'd been hating them for no good reason.

Whatever the reason, he'd decided to come clean about what he'd done. He knew the consequences. He had to go to jail, but his conscience was bothering him for the first time in years. He'd been ignoring it for a long time, pretending it wasn't real and that he didn't feel a thing, but it just wasn't true.

His father, having sobered up from the night before, was driving to the police station. Benji was riding in the passenger seat, Ruth was in the back. She'd insisted on coming too, though it was unclear why.

"I hope they found that gun," Benji said, "When I took it, I thought it only damaged technology. I used to to shut off the security system at the Toy Emporium. Turns out there wasn't one and I shouldn't have even bothered. But I think it hurt the people who came to stop us. I mean really hurt them."

"People, plural?" Ruth questioned.

"Yeah. Three of them," Benji nodded, "I wonder what happened to the other two. I may have really hurt them. There was this weird flash of light when I pressed the trigger. It didn't do that when I used it on the door, so I don't know what it was doing."

Benji's father looked thoughtful, but said nothing. He'd seen a similar flash later the same evening, though he didn't know that for sure.

"Maybe they were two of the people I talked to this morning," Ruth theorized, "What did they look like?"

"Well, one of them was tall, with brown hair and-," Benji broke off suddenly as something by the side of the road caught his eye, "Dad, slow down."

"Why?"

"I think there's someone lying in the snow over there," Benji pointed, "See them?"

"Daddy, stop the car," Ruth cried, "Benji's right. We better check on them. They look hurt."

Benji was the first out of the car, practically leaping out the door almost before the car rolled to a stop. Even from a distance he could recognize the unusual outfit. He didn't even have to turn the kid over. There's something unusually memorable about the person who interrupts you when you're in the middle of burglarizing a toy store, especially when you see them again in your own living room.

Chase moaned when he felt himself being turned over. He opened his eyes, decided he didn't like what he saw and closed them again. He didn't really see Benji so much as a nondescript blur or perhaps a collection of unrelated pixels which were trying to pass themselves off as a clear image.

"Dad, it's that kid!" Benji shouted over his shoulder, "What did you say his name was?"

"Chase," his father replied, hurrying over to see for himself, "My goodness, what happened to him?"

Chase was covered with soot and his hair, which was normally fairly upright, had been plastered to his head by a combination of ashes and melted snow.

"Looks like he's been busy," Ruth commented, "Probably saving more lives. I'm starting to think our crossing paths with him isn't by chance."

"I have been telling you that all day," her father reminded her.

"I'd hate to think it was destiny," Benji said, "Well, what do we do with him?"

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked.

"He doesn't like hospitals," Benji reminded her, "But we can't just leave him here. So what do we do?"

"Take him home," their father said matter-of-factly.

"That's nice, Dad. But we have no idea where he lives," Benji said, shaking his head.

"Well, why don't we wake him up and ask him?" Ruth suggested.

"Let's move him to the car first," her father said, "It's cold out here."

Benji picked Chase up without being asked. Ruth opened the back door and Benji set Chase down on the seat. Then they all got back in the car so they could close the doors and get the heater running.

Chase roused a little in response to the heat, but mostly he started coughing.

"I'd suggest splashing cold water on him," Benji said, "but I don't think he'd be able to feel the difference."

"Yeah, he looks really cold," Ruth agreed quietly.

"So how do we wake him up?" Benji asked.

At that precise moment, it began to snow. Light flakes at first, but they came faster and faster.

"Perhaps we should go home and wait for the storm to blow over," their father said.

His kids both agreed. Driving in the snow would be dangerous.

"If we'd just been a minute or two later getting here, we never would have seen him," Ruth said, "We'd have driven right by and never known he was even there."

"Lucky break for him," Benji agreed.

"Some things don't happen by chance," their father told them, "Some things are meant to happen."

* * *

><p>Adam and Bree had given up sitting in the helicopter waiting for Chase to show up about the time it started snowing. It was reasonably clear that he wasn't going to and they were just wasting their time waiting.<p>

They were ambling along the sidewalk while Bree tried to think of what they should do now. She didn't realize that she was following Adam, or that his wandering was somewhat less than entirely aimless. Perhaps it was subconscious, but he was heading to Bart's Toy Emporium.

When they turned onto the street, Bree failed to recognize it at first. It looked different to her. It had been dark when she'd approached the toy store from this direction, and it had been overrun with police cruisers when she'd been here in daylight. The police cars were gone.

Nothing had been stolen from the toy store, and they had dusted for prints, so the owner had been permitted to reopen his store. He wasn't opening because he closed the week before Christmas, but he was there cleaning the place up. There was broken glass and some of the display cases had been knocked over.

Adam paused and looked in the window of the store. Bree shoved her hands into her pockets and looked across the street. She didn't know what to do next, nor where to go.

"Hey, the LEMP is still there," Adam said.

"The what?" Bree asked, turning towards him.

"The LEMP. It's right there. See? On the floor," Adam pointed through the window.

Bree looked, blinked and looked again. It dawned on her that Adam had brought her back to the toy store. She also realized that Adam was right. The police had mistaken the LEMP gun for one of the toys in the shop and left it there on the floor where Benji had dropped it.

"Adam," Bree said, "we have to get it back, before someone gets hurt with it."

"Okay," Adam turned to the door and shook his head, pointing to the sign, "Store's closed until December twenty-sixth. Let's come back then."

"Adam," Bree smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, "We have to get it before then. Like right now."

"Okay, let's go ask for it," Adam said.

"We can't do that," Bree told him, catching his arm.

"Why not?"

"If we do that, that guy in there will think we're the ones who robbed his store."

"Oh," Adam nodded knowledgeably, "So we'll just tell him the truth."

"Ugh," Bree moaned, "Just stay here. I'll run in and get it. He'll never know I was there."

"Alright," Adam agreed.

"Stay," Bree repeated firmly.

"Go!" Adam retorted with equal emphasis.

Bree frowned at him, so Adam leaned against the wall of the store and crossed his arms. He tried raising an eyebrow, but it didn't quite work, so he settled for rolling his eyes. Bree didn't feel confident that Adam would stay, but she went around to the back of the store, intending to run through the back entrance because it didn't have a bell over the door.

Adam stayed where he'd put himself, watching traffic pass. He saw a silver car slide around the corner and straightened. He started to go after the car, but then he hesitated and looked over his shoulder. Bree had told him to stay. But... but he was sure Chase was in that car. Adam bit his lip and looked over his shoulder again, wishing Bree would get back. But she wasn't back yet, and the car would go by soon.

Adam took a deep breath and decided that he didn't have to listen to Bree because she wasn't his boss. He was older, and she hadn't been put in charge of this mission anyway. It was flawed logic, which was the kind Adam liked best, because it worked better with how he viewed the world.

He was going to do something. He wasn't going to miss Chase again. Not this time.

* * *

><p>"Dad, look out!"<p>

The car breaks shrieked and the tires slid on the ice. The vehicle started to fishtail, but instead came to an abrupt, bone-jarring halt. The occupants of the car had closed their eyes and screamed, so they missed the part where Adam put his hands out and caught the car by its front bumper. His feet slid on the ice, but he dug in and made the car stop. He didn't realize his eyes were glowing a little when he did this.

He was angry and wasn't even sure why.

He clenched his fists and went around the side of the car. He grabbed the handle, but the back door was locked. He ripped the door from its hinges and threw it. The door crashed through the window of Bart's Toy Emporium, but Adam didn't pay any attention to it.

"Chase!" he cried joyfully.

Chase was slow to respond. He turned his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes.

"Adam?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper.

"Chase!" Adam repeated, grabbing his brother and pulling him out of the car.

Adam spun in a circle, holding Chase in a fierce hug.

"I thought you were dead!" Adam exclaimed.

"Adam... Adam, put me down. Can't... breathe," Chase yelped.

Adam set him down reluctantly, but didn't let him go.

"I was so worried about you," Adam admitted, the fear still evident in his eyes and trembling voice.

"I was worried about you too," Chase told him, sudden tears welling up, "I thought... I don't even know what I thought," Chase hugged Adam back, then looked around, "What about Bree?"

"What about me?" Bree asked, running up and trying to look nonchalant with the LEMP gun clutched in one hand, "Adam! I told you to stay put!"

"I found Chase!" Adam told her.

"And you destroyed that store window. And this car!" Bree exclaimed, then did a double-take, "You found Chase!" she squealed with delight, dropping the LEMP and pouncing on Chase, hugging him almost as tightly as Adam had earlier, "We missed you so much!"

After a moment, she became embarrassed and stepped back, digging the toe of her boot into the snow.

"I mean... Adam missed you."

"No he didn't," Chase said, "I think he cracked my ribs when he hugged me."


	19. Do You Hear What I Hear?

It was surprisingly easy for Adam, Bree and Chase to get out of Exuro once they finally managed to find each other. First they had to escape from Benji, Ruth and their father, which was easy enough because all three had evidently become convinced that Chase was some kind of angel and his siblings were also probably angels. They would never name the three to the police, nor were they likely to come looking for them. As for Bart's Toy Emporium, Adam reasoned that Mr. Davenport could 'make a donation' to pay for the damage that he'd caused. Neither Bree nor Chase found fault with that.

The problems for them arose when Bree glitched less than halfway home. She almost ran them into a tree, but Chase took over her bionics and shut them down. He then shut down Adam's bionics, followed closely by his own.

"Great," Bree fumed, "Now what do we do?"

"We could sit here for an hour until our systems reset," Adam suggested.

"Here?" Bree spat, "In the town that time forgot?"

Adam looked around. The town they'd stopped in was indeed old and ramshackle. The stores were decorated with ancient Christmas-themed figurines and strings of lights that flickered sadly. The little trees parked in the sidewalk had become massive oaks, which now drooped sadly with their winter weight of snow and ice. The snow storm in Exuro hadn't come this far, but the sky was clouded, so the storm was probably heading in this direction.

They were sitting in a row on a bench, and Chase was resting his head on Adam's shoulder. He'd been fading in and out, coughing off and on, and generally not being very lively or talkative. But now he opened his eyes and took in the snow-laden street before them and the variety of shops on the other side. He then looked to the right and stared for a long time at nothing in particular.

"Is that a bus on that sign?" He asked after awhile.

"Can't you see? Yes it's a bus!" Bree practically yelled.

Chase didn't have the energy to be defensive. He just looked at her plaintively.

"I've got soot in my eyes, Bree. So no, I can't see," he explained, sounding almost ashamed of himself, then changed the subject, "Do you or Adam have any money on you?"

"What have you got in mind?" Bree wanted to know.

"Well," Chase paused to cough, "If we've got enough for bus-fare, we can get home. If this bus doesn't go to Mission Creek, then we can just ride it as far as it goes, then take another bus once we get there."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head against Adam again. Adam was either too tired or too sympathetic to tease him or give him a hard time for it. Adam turned to Bree, sitting on his left, being careful not to move the shoulder Chase was leaning against.

"I think that idea makes a lot more sense than my penguin sleigh idea," Adam told her.

"Adam, anything makes more sense than a sleigh pulled by penguins. Hitchhiking would make more sense than a penguin sleigh!" Bree was tired and irritable, and with good reason.

Some people get unresponsive when tired (Chase), others get more worse ideas than usual (Adam), and the rest just get angrier and angrier until they pass out from pointless fury (Bree).

"Do we know when the next bus is?" Bree asked, refusing to become more amiable.

Chase didn't bother to answer. He made a small grunting noise that might have been an attempt at words, but he didn't repeat it when Bree asked him to say it again.

"We do have bus-fare," Bree admitted, "But maybe there aren't any buses coming. It is Christmas Eve, and it's starting to get dark-"

"Well why don't we wait in the diner?" Adam suggested.

"What diner?" Bree asked quizzically.

"The one at the the corner," Adam pointed, "The signs says they're closing at midnight and will reopen on the twenty-sixth. After Christmas, I guess. I dunno about you, but I'm hungry.

"It has been a long day," Bree admitted, "And who knows, maybe they know when the bus arrives."

"C'mon, Chase," Adam said, nudging Chase with his shoulder and elbow, "Let's get something to eat."

Chase grumbled a little, but actually got up, or something close to it anyway. Adam was either unwilling to let Chase get too far away or wanted to help his brother, because he got up quickly and put an arm around Chase's shoulders in order to propel him down the street.

* * *

><p>The waitress looked up from wiping the counters in some surprise. She had expected no more customers this evening besides the old couple sitting in the booth at the back. She certainly hadn't expected three teenagers at this time of the evening on Christmas Eve and they made her a little nervous, especially since one of them looked like he'd just completed some kind of dare.<p>

The three of them sat down at a booth, the two boys on one side, the girl on the other. The smaller boy, the one who looked like he'd been put through a wringer, leaned against his companion and seemed to go to sleep before the waitress came to ask if they were ready to order. The other two took menus from the middle of the table and examined them.

After a minute, the older boy bapped the younger one on the head with the menu, jolting him awake.

"Here. Read this for me."

"Make Bree do it," was the mumbled reply, and the menu was shoved unceremoniously across the table.

"Read it for me, Bree," the older boy said.

"Adam, it has pictures," the girl, Bree, "Just pick whatever looks good."

"But what if something doesn't have a picture? How will I know I want it?"

"Adam, if there's one thing I know about how your mind works, it's that it isn't picky about what you use for fuel. Just pick the sweetest item on the menu and order that."

"Oh wow," Adam said, taking the menu, "I didn't think of that. You think Chase will want the same thing? Or should I ask him?"

Bree looked at Chase, and there seemed to be a sympathetic look in her eye.

"Nah, leave him alone. I'll order for him. We can wake him up when it arrives."

"How do you know what he wants?" Adam asked curiously.

"If Chase hasn't eaten since yesterday, he's probably hungry enough to eat this table."

"Well don't let him do that," Adam said uneasily, "He'd break his teeth. Believe me, I know."

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asked cheerily, deciding that now was as good a time as any to pounce, seeing as she was done wiping off the counters.

"In a minute," Bree said, "First, do you know when the bus comes?" she pointed out the window.

"Not for another two hours. Sometimes it's late and more like three. Sorry."

"No, that's fine," Bree replied, shaking her head, "We need to eat anyway."

"Bree," Adam leaned across the table and pulled at her sleeve urgently, "I don't think I can keep eating for three hours."

"Don't mind him," Bree told the waitress, who was feeling ever so slightly unsettled, "he's an idiot."

They ordered and then settled back to wait.

"It's a good thing we didn't wait for the bus outside," Adam commented, by way of making conversation, "We'd have been popsicles in three hours. Then Mr. Davenport would have to store us in the freezer instead of the basement."

Bree couldn't tell if Adam was serious or making a joke. Sometimes it was hard to tell with him. In any case, conversation was kept to a minimum. Neither Bree nor Adam felt much like talking. It had been a long day for them and the only thing on their minds had been finding Chase. Having succeeded, their tired minds knew the task at hand was complete, but weren't sure where to go from here.

Their food arrived and they looked at it with a certain lack of enthusiasm. It looked good and was hot, but they were tired and didn't feel as hungry as they might. All except Chase, who woke up when Adam nudged him hard enough and then proceeded to wolf down the burger Bree had ordered for him in approximately three bites, then inhaled the French fries before they even had a chance to get cold.

Watching, somewhat awestruck, Bree managed to find her voice enough to ask "You need another one?"

Chase blinked at her, but it didn't seem to do much good. His eyes were red and there was a lot of soot weighing down the lashes. It was a little unclear whether Chase could even see her. Instead of answering, he drained the glass of water which had been served when they'd ordered, and then chewed up the lemon wedge that had been attached to it.

"I think he needs another one," Adam said, "and probably a shower."

Chase sniffed, then sneezed into a napkin. He frowned at it. Evidently he had soot up his nose too.

"Why don't I order seconds, and you help Chase clean up a little in the bathroom?" Bree suggested.

Neither of them consulted Chase on this, having decided that he wasn't going to be any kind of help. The short naps he was taking weren't doing much to revive him, though he'd gotten a little color in his face now that the food was sinking in.

"C'mon, Chase," Adam urged, pushing Chase out of the booth, "Come on. Put the lemon wedge down and let's go. It'll still be here when you get back," he turned his head towards Bree and mouthed 'see if they have hot chocolate', then went back to prodding Chase, "Come on. No, that's the exit. This way. Here we go. Come on."

Chase meekly followed Adam's instructions, almost as though he wasn't sure where he was or what they were doing. It wasn't until Adam pushed him into the bathroom that Chase began to move under his own power. Still, it was too sluggish for Adam's taste, so Adam helped Chase by pouring water on the paper towels and handing them to Chase.

"Where are we?" Chase asked after he'd cleaned around his eyes enough that he could look around properly, "This doesn't look like Mission Creek."

"That's because it's not," Adam replied from his perch on the bathroom counter, before handing Chase another paper towel, "Bree glitched. Fortunately, she managed to go back for you and bring you here to where she left me. Don't you remember shutting off our bionics?"

"I remember that," Chase said, "Just not all that other stuff."

"You were pretty out of it," Adam told him, "You know, most people get grumpy when they're hungry. You faint a lot for not being a girl."

"Oh thanks," Chase spat sarcastically, "I do try."

Adam started to say something which would display his total misunderstanding of sarcasm, but an irritated look on Chase's face stopped him cold. But the look wasn't for Adam.

"I don't believe this," Chase said, throwing a wad of paper towels into the trash, "It's like that song is following me everywhere I go! I hate it!"

Adam cocked his head and listened. Then he shrugged.

"I don't recognize it."

"You wouldn't," Chase retorted, "It hasn't been chasing you around a city for two days."

"What is it?" Adam asked, but Chase didn't reply, instead focusing on the song.

_"I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day/Their old familiar carols play/And mild and sweet the words repeat/Of peace on earth, good will to men."_

"What a bunch of nonsense," Chase muttered, drying his hands on a paper towel and throwing it away.

He was a long way from clean, but he did look a little more like himself, except for his flattened hair.

Chase pushed open the bathroom door, but then stopped so abruptly that Adam ran right into him. Chase backed up hurriedly, elbowing Adam out of the way.

"What?" Adam asked, "What's the problem?"

"Look out there. Tell me what you see," Chase said.

Adam opened the door a little and peered out. Six hooligan-types were parading about the diner. One was fondling the waitress's hair and two were trying to engage Bree in conversation.

"I see a bunch of guys in leather jackets," Adam told him.

Chase shook his head and glared at the speaker near the ceiling, which was saying exactly what he was thinking. Or perhaps he was thinking what it was saying. Either way.

"'There is no peace on earth'," Chase muttered, "At least, not today."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Chase said, "Come on, we've got work to do."

"On Christmas Eve?" Adam protested.

"We're heroes right?"

"Yeah."

"And those out there are bad guys, right?"

"Sure. But what has that got to do with-"

"Heroes and villains don't take days off, Adam. You know that," Chase told him, "Now put on your mission face and let's go handle these guys."

"But, Chase," Adam objected, pulling at Chase's sleeve, "you turned our bionics off, remember?"

"So what? We've got training in martial arts. We'll be fine. Now come on."

_"__But the bells are ringing/Like a choir singing/Does anybody hear them?_

_Peace on earth, good will to men..."_


	20. Be Good for Goodness Sake

"Excuse me, this is our table."

Chase smiled when the large man turned to glower at him. Chase was well aware that he was a comparatively tiny person. He was also painfully aware of his own physical limitations, especially considering that he didn't have his bionics to draw on. He hoped Adam was that aware, and wouldn't try to use his absent super strength. Adam was strong on his own, but not _that_ strong.

"What did you say?!" The man thundered.

"Oh you're deaf. I'm sorry," Chase had learned sign language one afternoon when he was bored and proceeded to use it to again explain that this was the table he and his brother had been sitting at.

The man slapped his hands and leaned to glower at him on a more personal level.

"I heard you, junior," The man snarled.

"Then why did you ask him to say it again?" Adam asked, then snorted, "Rude."

"Who's your girlfriend?" the man asked of Chase, grabbing him by the collar.

"Him? He's my brother," Chase answered, "And he doesn't like it when people besides him hit me."

"I'm very possessive," Adam admitted, "It's a gaping flaw in my otherwise lovable character."

"You think I'm scared of him?" the man asked.

"Well I would be," Chase replied neutrally, "But then I'm half his size and I also have a brain that's bigger than a golf ball."

The man growled and raised his fist. Chase flinched, but then twisted free and ducked out of the way. The punch hit nothing but the air which had rushed to fill the space Chase had previously been occupying.

"Hey!" Adam shouted, catching the man by the wrist, "He said I'm the only one allowed to hit him! Are you stupid as well as hard of hearing?"

The man tried to pull his arm away from Adam. Adam glared at him and hung on. Fortunately for Adam, angles were on his side. Even lacking his super strength, he was able to hold onto the wrist he'd grabbed with relative ease.

Bree had slid out of the booth and maneuvered her way to Chase's side.

"Chase, you do realize we don't have our bionics, right?" She whispered to him.

Chase just looked at her and flashed one of those obnoxious confident smiles. Bree rolled her eyes.

"This is dangerous," Bree told him.

"Bree, I've been doing dangerous stuff all day. And every time I run away, this blasted song," he jerked his head towards a ceiling speaker, "keeps turning up. And then I get in trouble again. I'm tired of running away. And I'm tired of people giving me a hard time. And I am sick and tired of being chased away from places."

"Well who are you and what have you done with my safety conscious brother Chase?"

Chase shook his head and nodded towards the goons harassing the couple.

"Go help the senior citizens. Adam and I have got these clowns."

"Oh we're clowns, are we?" demanded one of the guys who had been bugging the waitress.

"Well," Chase said, easing backward, "I hear being a clown is hard work. Takes years of commitment and practice."

"Chase," Adam laughed, shaking his head and coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brother, "These guys can't be clowns."

"Why not?" Chase asked.

"They don't have red noses," Adam replied, reaching behind him for a bottle of ketchup he'd seen on the table earlier.

He whipped it around and squeezed the container. A stream of red condiment sprayed the faces of the men nearest to them. They stumbled back with cries of pain resulting from the vinegar in the ketchup getting in their eyes.

"See? That's how clowns should look!" Adam exclaimed.

Chase snatched up a mustard bottle. He liked Adam's idea. It was fighting dirty, but Chase figured that made it fair since there were six grown men and they were only three teenagers.

"You look tired, pal," Adam said to one man, then cracked a chair across the man's back, "Have a seat!"

"Adam!" Chase scolded, "That was awful!"

"I know," Adam agreed sadly, "I ruined a perfectly good chair. Don't worry," he added, turning to their waitress, "My dad will pay for it... Eventually."

"Let me go!"

Chase turned towards the cry and found that one of the goons had caught another waitress by the waist and was picking her up off the floor and preparing to carry her off somewhere.

"Hey!" Chase shouted, "The lady asked you to let her go. So put her down!"

"Make me!" was the angry reply.

"Okay," Chase replied.

He feigned a rush at the man, who raised his arm to block the attack, but then dropped to the floor at the last minute. He slid across the floor until he was able to wrap his legs around those of his opponent. Then he executed a roll which effectively toppled his adversary. Not one of his most graceful solutions, but it worked. The hood dropped the waitress as he started to lose his balance and she scrambled clear.

From his position on the floor, Chase glanced over at Bree, who was handling her problems rather nicely, if not with her usual swift flair.

"Hey, are anybody else's ears ringing?" Adam asked suddenly.

Chase listened. He wasn't used to being the last to hear something.

"That's not your ears ringing," Chase replied with a sigh, "those are police sirens."

"Cops!" squealed one of the hoodlums, "We've gotta get out of here!"

"Adam, block the fire exit!" Chase yelled, leaping to his feet.

In response, Adam took hold of one of the tables and shoved it hard across the floor. It slammed against the fire door, effectively blocking it. The hooligans which had been heading that way turned to go out the front instead. But Chase wasn't worried about that.

He let Adam give him a hand back to his feet and calmly watched as the hooligans ran out the door – only to be met by a couple of police cruisers pulling into the parking lot.

"The police station is just five minutes from here," their waitress explained, "I called the police as soon as those guys came in. They've wrecked this place before, but got away clean. Not this time. And that's thanks to you," she smiled at them warmly, "Even if my manager doesn't go for it, your meal is gonna be on the house. I'll pay for it if he doesn't."

"I don't want to eat on a house," Adam said, shaking his head unhappily, "I want to eat _in_ a house."

"Adam," Chase said, patiently putting his arm around his brother's shoulders, "You just don't get it."

"People tell me that a lot," Adam replied, nodding slowly.

"And those people are right," Bree assured him.

"I really wanted to be home for Christmas," Chase sighed as a policeman approached them.

"What?" Adam asked, "Did we do something wrong?"

"You the kids that fought those guys?" the policeman asked them.

"Yes sir," Chase answered reluctantly, "But we didn't start it."

"Really we didn't," Bree chipped in, "They were bothering those two people in the back. And our waitress. Not to mention us. That man over there threw the first punch."

"Alright," the policeman said, "Well, lemme take your statements for our records. Then I'll get out of here and let you finish your meal."

"You mean... you mean, we're not going to the police station?" Chase breathed in some disbelief.

"I don't see why," the policeman replied with a shrug, "You haven't done anything illegal, have you?"

"No," Bree answered quickly, as Adam replied, "Not lately."

"Adam!" Chase elbowed his brother in the ribs.

"Uh-huh," the policeman said, looking disinterested, "Well, let's start with your names."

"This is Adam, that's Bree and I'm Chase," Chase said.

"No really," The policeman persisted, "I need your real names."

"Those are our real names," Adam insisted, "our last name is Davenport. Here," he handed the man a card, "That's our address and home phone number. Call our dad and ask him."

The policeman looked at the card curiously, then glanced at Adam.

"I get lost a lot," Adam explained, "and I'm not good with numbers. Or words, actually."

The policeman transferred his gaze from Adam to Chase, whom he looked up and down a little bit suspiciously. Chase looked at his attire and realized he was still wearing his mission suit, and was still fairly sooty, not to mention his hair, which had plastered itself firmly to his head.

"He was in a play," Bree said quickly, "'A Christmas Carol'. He was playing the Ghost of Christmas Future," Bree glanced at Chase again, "The makeup artist hates him. They used to date," she winced at how ridiculous that lie sounded.

"Uh-huh," the policeman said, sounding a trifle skeptical, "I always imagined the Ghost of Christmas Future was taller."

"He's the tallest kid in his drama club," Adam said, then added quietly, "The rest of them are midgets."

"I see."

"Very, very small people," Adam elaborated helpfully.

"I know what midgets are."

And the music played on:

_"__Do you hear the bells, they're ringing/__The life, the angels singing/Open up your heart and hear them/Peace on earth, good will to men..."_

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, they were back at the booth and eating their dinner. Adam and Bree had worked up an appetite during the fight, and Chase had been hungry to begin with. Adam cleaned up the wreckage of the chair he'd broken and restated that someone would pay for it. The waitress told him not to worry about it. She was just glad the rest of the chairs were still intact.<p>

"It seems like all the weirdos come out of the woodwork around Christmas," she commented, then added hurriedly, slightly embarrassed, "Not you guys! But... other weirdos... Oh dear! What I meant was-"

"We get it," Chase told her with a smile.

"You know," Bree said once they were all settled and eating, "I don't think that cop believed us."

"I don't think he cared," Adam replied.

"Would you?" Chase asked, "I mean, we did catch some local troublemakers for him. And we didn't do anything illegal. Heck, we didn't even really hurt anyone."

"Much," Adam corrected him.

"Much," Chase replied agreeably.

"Does it ever bother either of you that we're supposed to be heroes, but we lie to people all the time?" Adam asked, "Especially people in law enforcement."

"Not even slightly," Chase replied, "Why?"

Adam blinked and stared at Chase for awhile before answering.

"You know, Chase, I never noticed it before," Adam said slowly.

"Noticed what?" Chase asked.

"You're slightly evil."

"That's news to you?" Bree asked him.

"I'm not evil," Chase protested, then defended himself weakly, "I just have a faulty moral compass. Why do you think I pretty much always do what Mr. Davenport tells me?"

"You're using Mr. Davenport as your moral compass?" Adam laughed.

"What's wrong with that?" Chase wanted to know, but Adam was laughing too hard to reply, so he turned to Bree, "Seriously. What's wrong with it?"

"Chase," Bree tried to sound serious, but she couldn't quite keep the laughter out of her own voice, "Mr. Davenport kept us in his basement for years. He didn't tell his wife we existed until she found out about us by accident. He's not the best role model when it comes to morality."

"Yeah, Chase," Adam said, his mouth now full of food, "If you need a role model, just look to me for guidance."

"Adam, you'd guide me right into a lamp post. I'd have better luck buying a compass at Will-Mart and doing what that told me to do."

"That's not true, Chase," Bree disagreed, "If you followed a compass, you'd eventually wind up at the North Pole. And then you really would be an elf."

"You know, we should really have these conversations less often," Chase told her.

"Everyone's a critic," Adam sighed.


	21. A Thin Black Sheet of Glass

The bus stopped and its door opened. Nobody got off the bus. Nobody was going anywhere this late on Christmas Eve. Nobody except for three teenagers who'd been waiting on a bench for fifteen minutes.

Adam got up and picked up the unresponsive Chase, who had gone to sleep almost as soon as he finished eating. He started to get on the bus, but then looked back. Bree was still sitting on the bench, shivering and crossing her arms uncooperatively.

"On or off, kids," the mustached driver muttered.

"Come on, Bree," Adam said, jerking his head towards the bus, "don't you want to get home before midnight? We're gonna miss Grandma Dooley's homemade fruit cake."

"Oh the horror," Bree grumbled, but got up and followed Adam into the bus.

"How far does this bus go?" Bree asked.

The driver told her while Adam selected a seat and put Chase in it. There was only one other passenger, a scruffy man, snoring loudly in the back of the bus. It was unlikely that he was going to get off the bus until someone made him.

Bree sat down next to Adam. The bus driver shut the door and the bus rolled away.

"We're going to have to switch buses at some point," Bree told Adam after they'd been riding for several minutes, "Probably more than once."

"What's wrong with this one?" Adam wanted to know.

"It doesn't go all the way to Mission Creek," Bree explained.

"Bree, we don't want to go to Mission Creek. We want to go home."

Bree opened her mouth to explain that they lived in Mission Creek, but it didn't seem worth the effort.

"This is the only bus we've got," Bree said, "We'll just ride it as far as it goes, then find another one."

"Well at least nothing else can get in our way," Adam commented, "I mean, after you've had a fight with a biker gang in a diner, what else can possibly happen?"

"Adam, you really shouldn't say things like that," Bree told him.

"Why not?" Adam asked.

Before Bree could answer, the bus tires screeched on the icy road. The bus swung sideways, fishtailing. They were on a downward slant, not quite a hill, but close enough. When the driver braked, the ice took over and the bus kept right on sliding. The sound of Bree and Adam screaming got Chase's attention. Thinking quickly, Chase screamed too. It didn't help.

The bus slid and hopped off the road, plunging down suddenly, barely staying upright as it plowed through a series of small bushes on its way to the bottom of what seemed to be a ravine by the side of the road. Adam, Bree and Chase tumbled forward to a point near the driver's seat.

"Is that ice?" Chase squeaked, gazing through the windshield, "that looks like ice down there!"

"Oh good," Adam said brightly, "That will break the fall."

"Adam!" Chase snapped, "Ice means water. That's a lake we're sliding into!"

"So why don't you just stop the bus?" Adam wanted to know.

"Our bionics are switched off!" Bree shouted over the roar of the bus eating its way through various frozen plants, "Remember?"

"So turn them back on," Adam suggested.

"I can't!" Chase said, "'Off' means 'off', Adam. Unless you set a timer, which I didn't. Even if I did, it wouldn't do us any good because the time is not now!"

Adam fought his way across the aisle to where Chase was clinging to the back of a seat. He picked Chase up by the collar and looked him straight in the eye.

"Chase," Adam said slowly, "the time is now."

"I _can't_ do anything," Chase told him in a pained voice, "I'm sorry, Adam."

And with that, the front end of the bus met with the ice. It hit with tremendous force, throwing all of them to the floor. A terrific **_CRACK!_** split the air and the front of the bus lurched and began to fill with icy water. The water slurped, gurgled and hissed its way through the cracks, pressuring the windshield eagerly.

Adam caught both Bree and Chase and tossed them towards the other end of the bus. He then took hold of the unconscious driver, who was nearer his size, and dragged him back too. Once beyond the reach of the water, Adam seemed to run out of momentum.

"Bree! Chase!" he didn't get an immediate response from either of them, so he shook Bree, who was closest to where he'd sunk into a sitting position, "Bree, answer me!"

Bree moaned and turned her head slightly. She opened her eyes, blinked, closed them again.

"Bree!"

"Oh... what happened?" Bree asked, sitting up, "Ow, my head..." she broke into a moment of hysterical screaming which had much to do with the darkness and the water and the creaking sounds the bus was making and perhaps some other things Adam couldn't translate into words.

"Bree, stop it!" Adam took her by the shoulders and shook her, even as she kept screaming hysterically, "Stop or I'll start screaming too! Bree, stop it!" he slapped her as gently as he could.

She slapped him right back. And much harder. It stung. But she also stopped screaming.

"This is no time to lose your head," Adam told her firmly, adding after a moment, "That time was two minutes ago. Where were you?"

"I have a better question," Bree said, "Where's Chase?"

"Oh he's back there somewhere," Adam said, gesturing vaguely, "I threw him just like you."

"Found him," Bree said, after looking around a bit, "You wedged him between the back seat and the seat in front of it. Hey, Chase, wake up. We've got hero stuff to do."

"Ow...," was Chase's response to this, "Who threw me?"

"Who do you think?" Bree demanded, "Who on this bus would throw you?"

"But... Adam doesn't have his super strength," Chase mumbled in protest, sitting up gingerly, "He couldn't have thrown me all the way to the back of the bus."

"Well I did!" Adam said fiercely, "And you'll have the bruises in the morning to prove it."

"But how...," Chase broke off as the lights came on, "Oh."

"Oh?" Bree demanded, "What 'oh'?!"

"Don't yell," Chase pleaded, "It makes my ears ring."

"What are you talking about, Chase?" Bree spat, but more quietly, "You don't have super hearing any more than Adam has super strength."

"That's the point," Chase told her slowly, "We do. At least a little bit. Don't you get it? My override app glitched. Our abilities are still partially functional."

"But that's-..." Bree trailed off.

"Not possible? Yeah, I know," Chase rubbed the back of his neck, "You remember the time I shrunk Adam down to the size of a small mouse? That wasn't possible either."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked, "It happened, didn't it? So clearly it must have been possible, otherwise it wouldn't have happened."

"That's my point exactly," Chase muttered.

"But you said-"

"Adam," Chase interrupted, "Don't strain yourself."

"I hate to interrupt," Bree said in a tone of voice that meant the exact opposite, "But... WE ARE IN A BUS THAT IS _**RAPIDLY** FILLING WITH WATER!_"

"So what's your point?" Adam asked curiously.

"Oh nothing," Bree replied sweetly, "I just think we should get out before we find out if you would shrink in the wash."

"Ooh, I've always wanted to know that," Adam said, but Bree caught him by the arm before he could test the theory.

"Later. First, see if you can get the emergency exit to open," Chase said quickly, before Bree let Adam go just to see what would happen.

"Oh I dunno, Chase. Do you think this is really an emergency?" Adam asked.

"This bus is about to become a submarine! Yes! This... _this_ is an emergency!" Bree practically screamed, which caused Chase to flinch and cover one ear.

"That seemed unnecessary," Chase commented as Adam clambered over him to get to the exit at the back.

"But it made me feel better," Bree replied, having no sympathy for Chase's sensitive ears.

"Guys...," Adam said, "the door's stuck. Now what?"

"Try prying it open," Chase suggested.

"What if it doesn't work?" Bree whispered to Chase, "What if Adam's not strong enough?"

"Then maybe we should all learn to breathe under water," Chase replied with a shrug.

"Chase!" Adam cried, nearly panicked now, "The door won't open! I can't get it to budge!"

There was a moment of fractured silence in which they all struggled not to cry or scream. Then Bree suddenly tapped Chase on the shoulder.

"If Adam's strength is working a little, maybe you can use your magnetism app to help him. If it works a little and Adam's strength works a little, maybe together you can get the door open."

"Can't hurt to try," Chase said, getting up a little unsteadily.

Bree wasn't so sure that was true, but she didn't say so. She felt very left out. What good were super speed and vocal manipulation when you were in a bus that was sinking to the bottom of a lake?

"Ow!" Adam protested, "Quit pushing."

"Okay, okay," Chase said passively, "You ready?"

"I'm ready," Adam replied, then hesitantly asked, "What are we doing?"

"Just... when I tell you, push on the door as hard as you can, okay?" Chase told him.

"Well okay, but it didn't work before. I don't see why it would now."

"Just do it," Chase snapped, "Activating magnetism app... I hope."

The bus lurched as the ice beneath it cracked further. Chase swayed and put a hand out to grab the back of a seat. He reached for the door with his other hand.

"Now, Adam," he hissed between his teeth.

"What?"

"_NOW_!"

"Oh. Well why didn't you say so?"

"Guys...," Bree said, scooting away from the near-frozen water that was rapidly slithering its way to the back of the tilted bus, "You might wanna hurry it up!"

"If you want fast, you'll have to do this yourself," Adam said.

"Adam!" Chase yelped, because Adam had stopped helping him to respond to Bree.

"Oh!" Adam exclaimed, then put his shoulder into forcing the door open, "Sorry."

"It's working!" Bree cried, shifting nervously from one foot to another and trying to see the door past Adam and Chase, "It's working!"

All of a sudden, the door popped loose. It didn't open exactly. It just flew away from the bus. With a startled cry, Adam tottered for a moment, and then plunged out of the bus and into the water.

"Adam!" Chase screamed, lunging after his brother.

"Chase!" Bree dove for Chase and grabbed his feet before he went into the drink too.

"Yeow!" Adam cried, using Chase as a ladder to climb back into the bus, "Cold, cold, cold, cold!"

Shivering, Adam crawled into the bus, stopping just short of the icy pool forming in the aisle. Chase, now also wet and slightly flattened from Adam climbing over him, stayed where he was.

"We're going to have to go through the water to get out," Bree realized aloud, "We'd freeze before we found a house with a telephone."

They had been driving through one of those patches of nowhere that occur from time to time, even when you're technically still in a town. They were miles from anywhere. And Adam was soaked through, ice was already forming in his hair.

"See, this is what happens when you say 'what could happen'," Chase told Adam.

Adam looked at him and tried to think of a retort, but he was too cold and shivering too much, so he just gave Chase a half-hearted kick in the leg and hoped it would be translated into some kind of response.

"Chase," Bree said before anything of the kind could happen, "What are we gonna _do_?"


	22. Keep That Faith

Chase didn't feel like moving. He didn't feel like doing anything. Much less solving this latest problem that had fallen in on him from nowhere. It seemed to him that it wasn't fair that the worst wasn't over when his brother and sister found him. It seemed to him that leaving Exuro should have freed him from the unending list of difficulties which had been following him about like a plague. And it seemed to him that a bus shouldn't sink into a lake except in movies. But, for some unfathomable reason, reality had not stopped to consult him on these matters.

Slowly, reluctantly, Chase sat up. He looked over his shoulder. He could just barely make Adam out in the dark, and only because Adam was shivering so badly. Closer, Bree was hovering over Chase, waiting for him to think of what they should do. Things must be serious if Bree was voluntarily looking to Chase for an answer to their situation.

"Chase, what are we gonna do!?" Bree repeated, her voice rising a painful octave.

Chase didn't answer at first. Instead, he got up, using a seat back for support. He went to where the exit door had been and leaned out of the bus, careful of his footing and to keep a hand on the bus. He looked up, down and around. Yes, they certainly were in trouble.

"Chase!" Bree persisted, pulling at his sleeve.

"I'm thinking!" Chase shot back, a little angry about her impatience, but mostly about his own inability to think fast right now, when it counted most.

"W-well-l... th-think... f-f-faster," Adam recommended through chattering teeth.

He'd sat up now and pressed his back against one of the seats, wrapping his arms around his chest in a futile attempt to get warm. A small puddle of water was forming and then turning to ice under him, and it wasn't because the bus was sinking either.

"Okay... I think I have something," Chase said.

"Well spit it out," Bree insisted almost before he'd finished the sentence.

"I am, I will, if you'll give me a second," Chase retorted, flashing her an irritated look, "Look, I think you can climb up on top of the bus. From there, you'd jump off onto the ice where it isn't broken. With any luck, you'll have access to your super speed, at least to some degree. While you go for help, Adam and I can try and get these two people to safety."

Bree looked out of the bus at the patch of ice Chase indicated it.

"Are you sure the ice will hold?" Bree asked uncertainly.

"Yes."

"How do you know? Can you use your scan vision to see how thick it is?" Bree asked.

"No. Scan vision isn't working," Chase replied, his breath frosting in front of his face.

"Then how do you know this will work?" Bree wanted to know.

"Because," Chase replied, though his voice trembled slightly as he said it, "It has to."

"Isn't that sort of like trying to make the internet work through sheer force of will in a place that doesn't have wi-fi?"

"Would you rather stay here and try to get Adam and two unconscious people out of this bus?" Chase challenged.

"Alright, alright," Bree grumbled, "I'm going."

Chase watched Bree struggle to get on top of the slippery, icy bus. He didn't have much sympathy for her, because he knew he would somehow have to get himself and three injured people up there too. Assuming, of course, that the ice held when Bree jumped down to it.

Bree hesitated, unsure of her footing. If her feet slipped when she jumped, she'd either hit the bus with her face, or slide into the icy water. Or possibly both. In any case, it was something to be avoided.

"Chase!" Bree shouted, feeling the wind biting through her thin jacket and sucking the nerve out of her, "How sure are you about the ice?!"

"Just jump!" Chase yelled back.

Bree took a deep breath, closed her eyes, counted to three, and jumped. Chase, watching from inside the bus, tensed and held his breath. In truth, he had no way of knowing if the ice would hold. He knew he may have just sent his sister to the equivalent of her death.

Bree hit the ice hard, slipped, fell onto her side, and slid all the way to where the frozen water met the frozen ground. The ice held.

Feeling elated, if slightly bruised, Bree got up and turned towards the bus. For the benefit of those inside, she pumped both fists in the air, and then took off running.

"See, Adam?" Chase asked gently, "Not so hard."

"W-what a-re you telling m-me f-for?" Adam wanted to know.

"You're next."

"How come?" Adam demanded.

"Because you're the heaviest conscious person. You need to go first in case the ice starts to crack. Besides, I need you down there so I can throw these civilians at you."

"Chase, since I'm already soaking and freezing, I think I should be a wet blanket too," Adam said, then sneezed several times before he could go on, "And since you're my brother, I'll put this as nicely as possible."

"Oh good," Chase said, nudging Adam to his feet.

"You," Adam said, sneezing again as he staggered to his feet, "are a _tiny_, doll-sized human with noodle arms. How, _exactly_, do you intend to throw two large, man-sized people any distance whatsoever?"

"Very carefully," Chase replied, shoving Adam towards the door, "Now get _off_ this bus."

While Adam fought awkwardly to get on top of the bus, Chase turned to the next problem facing him. Much as Chase hated to admit it, Adam did have a point. It was hard enough to carry dead weight equal to your own. Chase would be trying to drag people two and three times his size onto the top of an ice-covered bus and then trying to fling them ten or twelve feet (Chase hadn't measured the distance, even in his head).

It was a lot easier to tell Adam and Bree that something would work "because it had to" than it was to convince himself using the same argument. But he had to, because it was the only argument he had. That in itself seemed like some kind of a cruel joke. He had to convince himself that "because he had to" was enough to make the impossible possible... _because he had to_.

Fortunately for Chase, "because you have to" is a force stronger than science or reason.

As Chase was dragging the bus driver towards the door, he heard a 'thud-crunch' sound. Adam had landed on the ice. Chase looked beyond the bus and saw that Adam was slowly getting to his feet. Wobbling unsteadily, Adam waited for the next part of Chase's so-called plan to arrive. In spite of his earlier argument against this plan, Adam now looked totally calm, like he was completely sure everything would go exactly as Chase promised.

Chase wondered where Adam got his faith from.

Chase wasn't sure how he got on top of the bus. But somehow, he made it to the top, dragging the limp bus driver with him. He looked past the back of the bus. Adam was still there waiting.

"When he reaches you, get him off the ice as fast as you can!" Chase shouted to Adam.

"I have no idea what you just said!" Adam yelled back, but Chase didn't hear him.

Chase had started with the larger person, which was partially because he wanted to put the heaviest people on the ice first in the hopes that it would hold longer for the lighter people, but also because he knew how much of his own limited energy would be expended. He hoped that he would be able to throw the lighter person more easily, having already thrown a heavier one. He wasn't sure the logic worked, but he was too tired to find flaw with it.

Of course, it was less like throwing and more like shoving as hard as he could so that the bus driver would sort of "sail" through the air as far as the unbroken ice. Then it would be up to Adam. Chase threw somewhat short of his mark, and the bus driver started to roll towards the broken ice, but Adam caught him and dragged him away from the edge.

Chase waited just long enough to make sure Adam was getting the man off the water, then climbed down for the second one. He slipped once and nearly fell in the icy water, but caught himself just in time. When he got inside the bus, Chase was forced to stop for a minute to catch his breath.

The problem with it was that, when you stop doing something which is very hard before you're finished, it's easy to convince yourself that it's too difficult to get started again. When you stop, you begin to notice how tired and sore you are, and you begin to think about the enormity of the task before you. So, while resting was necessary, it was also a kind of evil in its own way.

Chase was so sore and shaky that he wasn't sure he could actually get up again, now that he'd sat down. He tried to convince himself that he had to. But "because" wasn't a very strong argument on its own. So he used the other weapon at his disposal. Adam and Bree were doing what was needed. Bree was running with glitches. Adam was standing out in the open, soaking wet and freezing, standing out there and waiting for Chase to deliver the only person left in the bus to the relative safety of the shore. If Chase didn't get up, he'd be letting them down. He had to get up.

He had to stop thinking about it and just do it. Just get up. _Get up_. That wasn't so hard.

Chase did manage to get up. He then instructed himself to pick up the man lying on the floor and sling him over his shoulder. That wasn't such a huge task, either. It was somewhat difficult, what with the slanted floor which was beginning to flood with numbing, icy water. But Chase managed that.

And he also did everything else too. He got out of the bus, climbed up on top of it, pushed the man off the bus and entrusted Adam with the next step. Then he sat back, breathing hard.

He wasn't done. He still had to get off the bus. But it seemed so far to the ice... Chase didn't think he could do it. Even if he could jump that far, what if he landed wrong and broke his ankle? Then what? In his mind flashed images of cold and pain, and utter futility. He was tempted to just stay there. He knew cold and exhaustion were working against him, ruining his ability to reason, and also hindering his instinct to survive.

"Chase!" Adam was standing out on the ice again, waiting for him.

"Adam!" Chase yelled, "Get off the ice, out of the wind! You'll freeze out here!"

"Chase, get down here!" Adam shouted back, either not hearing what Chase said or choosing to ignore it, "Get down off that bus! It's sinking really fast and I don't want to explain to Mr. Davenport why my brother is an ice-block! So get down!"

Chase didn't really think about getting up. He just did it. He didn't think about jumping, either. He just did that too. Adam caught him and dragged him to where he'd left the two men. And there the four of them stayed, underneath some bushes and waiting for Bree to bring help.

"W-want to p-lay twenty questions?" Adam suggested.

Chase gave him an ineffectual shove, then leaned against his brother. They sat with their arms crossed and knees drawn up, shivering against one another and waiting for their sister to do what she'd gone to do. Somehow, Chase thought that it was much easier to have confidence in Bree than it had been to have it in himself. Bree would find help. All she had to do was find someone with a telephone. And all they had to do now was stay as warm as they could and wait for her to get back.

That didn't seem so hard.


	23. Wish You Merry Christmas

Bree's super speed didn't work very well, or for very long. But she did make it to a house, and the people who lived there did have a telephone. After calling for help, Bree let the residents drive her back to where the bus had crashed to see if they could be any help.

At first, Bree thought that Chase hadn't managed to get anybody out of the bus. The bus was mostly gone beneath the water by now, and Bree didn't immediately see anyone. But as she climbed down to the water's edge, she spotted movement in the dark. Adam, Chase, the driver and the other passenger were all huddled under a bush out of the wind. Chase blinked when one of the people who'd brought Bree back to the scene of the accident flashed a light at him.

"See?" Chase muttered, "Not so hard."

"J-just... b-believe," Adam supplemented.

"I don't think any of us will be flying any time soon," Bree said.

"Maybe not," Chase replied quietly, "but I'd give it a try."

"Ooh," Adam grunted, "Nope. Doesn't work."

"Okay, so you both lost what few marbles you had while I was gone. How about we move everybody uphill, near the road? That way the paramedics can actually find us."

"You heard the lady," Chase muttered, giving Adam a gentle push.

"She said 'everybody'. I assume that includes you," Adam said, shoving back, "C'mon, move."

"No. Comfy," Chase said.

"Great," Bree said, throwing up her hands, "Just great. Chase is communicating in two word sentences. And he's using short words. Adam, push him out from under the bush. I'll drag him up the hill."

"Okay," Adam replied, and then didn't move.

"Adam!" Bree snapped, "Come on, let's go. Unless you want to spend the night here."

Grumbling, Adam pushed Chase out from under the bush. But Bree didn't have to drag him uphill. Once he was up, Chase moved under his own power, thought not without the help of the man who had driven the truck which had returned Bree to this spot.

At the top of the hill, the man's wife sat Chase down on the running board and wrapped him in a flannel blanket. She'd brought one for everybody, after Bree had told her how many people were in the accident.

Chase watched Bree poke and prod and drive Adam uphill, Adam was carrying the bus driver. The man who'd driven Bree here, named William (his wife's name was Trudy), carried the passenger. They'd just made it to the top of the hill when Chase heard the distant wail of sirens.

* * *

><p>"You should stay with us tonight," William counseled, "And head for home in the morning."<p>

Adam, Bree and Chase had managed to extricate themselves from the care of the paramedics through some miracle, thereby avoiding a trip to the hospital. William and Trudy were trying to convince them not to take another bus ride. At least, not tonight.

"We appreciate everything you've done for us," Chase explained, "Really, we do. But... our family is worried about us. We've got to go home. Can you point us in the direction of the nearest town?"

"And tell us where the bus station is," Bree added hurriedly.

"No," William said, "But I will drive you there."

"Oh, you don't have to go to all that trouble on our account," Bree said, then went on before William could change his mind, "How long do you think it will take to drive there?"

* * *

><p>Two bus rides later, they were much closer to their goal. Bree elected to call a cab for the last leg of their journey, having had her fill of odd passengers. The cab smelled like cigarettes and old shoes, but Bree didn't comment on it, Adam probably didn't notice and Chase was well and truly asleep.<p>

Adam was leaned towards Chase. Chase's head was on his shoulder. When they got good and settled in the cab, Adam put his head on top of Chase's and fell asleep. Bree resolved not to go to sleep, but it wasn't long before she sort of tipped over onto Chase and fell asleep with her head on his arm.

They'd given their address to the cabbie, who was fortunately a kindly man who knew Mission Creek well. He looked in his mirror now and then at his three passengers, wondering about them a little, but knowing he couldn't ask and so would never know their story, which he felt sure must be an interesting one.

* * *

><p>The sky was just barely turning a soft shade of gray when Leo woke up. It was Christmas morning, but it sure didn't feel that way to him. Adam and Bree hadn't come back, nor had there been any word from them. There was nothing to do but wait, and hope they would find their way home.<p>

Leo's grandmother had asked after Adam, Bree and Chase. Mr. Davenport couldn't come up with a convincing lie, though he tried several. The problem was that his first lie, that they had taken a ski trip to the Alps, was so fantastic and unbelievable by the time he finished telling it that Grandma Dooley chose not to believe anything he said after that. Tasha eventually concocted a believable lie: that Adam, Bree and Chase had gotten separated from them while they were Christmas shopping and nobody could find them. Grandma Dooley said they should call the police, the fire department, the army and possibly the national guard, but Tasha managed to sooth her down by saying they had already done that.

When Leo came into the living room that morning, he saw that his grandmother was already up and taking a stab at cooking something for breakfast. Leo was so depressed about his missing siblings that he didn't care what she made, just so long as she didn't disappear too. He hadn't even thought to dislike her fruitcake when he'd tried a piece last night out of courtesy. And it hadn't even dawned on him that she would be cooking a turkey later. He just didn't care right now.

Mr. Davenport was sitting at his desk and frowning intently at the computer screen. He was pretending to play minesweeper, but he was actually waiting for the phone to ring. He was waiting for the kids to call. But the phone wasn't ringing. And it kept on not ringing, no matter how fiercely Mr. Davenport glared at his computer screen, or how violently he clicked the button on his mouse.

Though he was rumpled and scruffy looking, Mr. Davenport didn't appear to have been to bed. He'd just done so much pacing and roughing up his hair in frustration that he looked like someone who'd been run through a tumble dryer. Did that make it two or three days he hadn't slept?

Leo didn't know. What was more, Leo didn't care.

He flopped lifelessly onto the sofa and turned on the TV. A Christmas movie was playing. Leo flipped quickly to another channel. A Christmas episode of a television show was playing. He changed channels. A holiday-themed infomercial was running on that channel. Leo changed to yet another channel, only to be confronted by cartoon character gleefully crooning 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' in that special tone reserved for singing cartoons and those customer service people who are delighted you called but have no information about anything and no power to fix your problem. Leo turned off the television. Then he turned it onto a news channel, hoping that maybe Adam, Bree and Chase might have done something heroic and newsworthy. The reporter made no mention of the holiday season, in spite of the various yuletide events going on. Leo thought her job must be hard. Not talking about Christmas was like... like not seeing your family.

Leo threw the remote at the TV and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the couch. He told himself he wasn't crying now, nor was he going to cry. Adam, Bree and Chase were just fine. They'd come through that door any minute now. Any second.

But... what if they didn't? What if he never saw them again?

He thought about the last thing Chase had said to him. _We'll see you when we get back_. That's what he'd said. He'd promised! But they hadn't come back! And that made Chase a liar.

"Donald, turn on some Christmas music," Grandma Dooley instructed, "It's too quiet around here."

Mr. Davenport looked at her like she'd just ordered a pizza to be delivered from Mars. But he didn't argue. He looked over at Leo, lying face-down on the couch, and thought maybe he understood. Grandma Dooley was trying to bring some holiday cheer, in spite of the tragedy that was hanging like a dark cloud of doom over what should have been the greatest holiday of the year.

Mr. Davenport poked around his computer for some Christmas music, but didn't feel like listening to any of it. Every album he had reminded him of Adam, Bree or Chase. Their favorite albums, the albums they hated, and that one album which they all insisted had to be played before Christmas or it didn't feel like Christmas at all.

After a few minutes of dedicated searching online, Mr. Davenport found an especially bleak play-list of sad Christmas songs. It seemed to fit his mood, so he decided to play it. Grandma Dooley glared at him, but said nothing. Leo showed no reaction whatsoever.

"Leave it to pop singers to suck all the fun out of Christmas," Eddy protested, "and I was having such a good time too."

"Shut up, Eddy," Leo's muffled voice said through the pillow he'd buried his face in, "I like them. They make me feel like it's okay to be sad on Christmas."

"And who told you that?" Eddy jeered, but whatever he had to say next was silenced by Tasha poking his mute button as she came down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas," Tasha said, but without enthusiasm.

"Says who?!" Leo retorted from his face-down position on the couch.

Tasha started to come over and sit on the couch next to him, but the doorbell rang. Tasha looked over at Mr. Davenport, who shrugged and turned the music down. Tasha went to the door and opened it.

"Adam!" She squeaked, jumping back in surprise as Adam strode through the door carrying Chase.

"Adam?" Leo asked, looking up, then shouted, "Adam!"

"Look what I found!" Adam said, holding Chase out like he was a Christmas gift.

All the shouting woke up Chase, and he demanded to be put down. Adam put him down, but only reluctantly. Bree came through the door and shut it as he did so.

"Hi, everybody," Bree said, "We're home."

"Why didn't you call me!?" Mr. Davenport demanded.

Bree and Chase looked at one another, then at Adam.

"What? You guys didn't think of that?" Adam asked.

"Gah!" Chase cried abruptly, instead of answering, "That stupid song again!"

He started for the door, but Adam blocked his path.

"It's just a song, Chase," Adam assured him with unusual gentleness, "It can't hurt you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

><p><em>Ringing singing, on its way  
>The world revolved from night to day.<br>A voice, a chime, a chant sublime/  
>Of peace on earth, good will to men.<em>


	24. Peace on Earth

_A/N**: Thank you all for reading and reviewing (and a special thank you to the people who pointed out typos I missed so that they could be corrected). You've been a wonderful audience, better than I imagined was possible when I first began posting this story. I appreciated the help, the corrections and the conversations. So, thank you again for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, you guys are amazing, Merry Christmas and goodnight everybody.**_

* * *

><p>"So you're trying to convince me that you didn't screw up the software update, because you're not the one who wrote it?" Chase asked later, when they were in the lab, "Right?"<p>

Chase had showered and changed clothes, and hadn't been interested in recounting his adventures. What he had done was explain what had gone wrong and, more importantly, how to fix it.

"Exactly," Mr. Davenport said, "And now that you've figured out how to remove it, everything's fine."

"No," Chase replied, crossing his arms, "No it isn't. You're always telling me to be careful about what I download. You have a thousand firewalls on your computers to protect them from viruses. And you've taken credit for every software update you've given us. Including this one."

"What's your point?" Mr. Davenport asked warily.

"You _lied_ to us," Chase said, his voice caught between anger and deep hurt, "We trusted you, and you let us down. Adam was right. You're no role model. You're nothing but an ego-maniacal liar."

Adam and Bree said nothing, but merely stood by and listened. Adam flinched at Chase's accusation or maybe at hearing his own name mentioned, but it was true so he didn't say anything.

"Well, but you figured out how to fix the problem. So everything's fine now," Mr. Davenport pointed out, though it was a weak defense.

"I nearly got killed," Chase snarled, then gestured to include Adam and Bree, "_We_ nearly got killed. And it was because of that software. You screwed up, and we suffered for it."

"But that's in the past, right?" Mr. Davenport said, "I learned from that mistake, and I won't do it again. Scout's honor," he held up his hand, "Honest."

"You were never a boy scout," Chase pointed out, and Mr. Davenport lowered his hand and looked at the floor, "We nearly died. Can't you understand that? Can't you get that through your thick head? Died. As in dead. As in pine box and six feet under. And that would have been on you. Not us. _You_."

There was silence between them for a moment. It seemed strange. All Chase had wanted for days was to get home. Now he was here, and all he felt was anger. He wasn't enjoying it, but he couldn't seem to find any forgiveness in his heart, so he couldn't release it. It seemed he was stuck with it.

He didn't feel any more welcomed by Christmas here than he had on the streets of Exuro. He still felt as though he was on the outside looking in, alone in the dark with nothing but cold spite and raging fury for company.

"Why don't we deal with this later?" Mr. Davenport suggested hopefully after a moment, "Tasha, Leo and Rose are upstairs waiting to open presents."

"I don't feel like it," Chase said, his eyes flashing angrily, "You go on ahead. You pretend everything's alright. Pretend you're wonderful. Just like always."

"Come on, Chase," Mr. Davenport encouraged, reaching out to put a hand on Chase's shoulder, "Don't be like that."

"Don't tell me how to be," Chase snarled, pulling away and turning his back on Mr. Davenport, "Just go away and leave me alone."

He couldn't believe he'd said that. The whole time he'd been in Exuro, Chase had felt cold and alone and even unloved, in spite of how ridiculous that seemed. He'd been worried about his family, known they cared about him and were looking for him. He didn't understand his own feelings of resentment. But he also couldn't shake them. It was as though the anger was a crushing weight, and he just didn't have the strength to hold it. And what scared him most was that he couldn't blame it on glitches. It was his own anger.

Mr. Davenport started towards Chase, but Adam stopped him.

"Let me talk to him," Adam said, stepping between them, "Bree, you and Mr. Davenport go ahead. We'll be up in a minute."

"Maybe _you_ will," Chase muttered under his breath, "I'm staying right here."

"Suit yourself," Bree said, then she and Mr. Davenport went upstairs.

Adam didn't say anything for a time, and Chase didn't encourage him to. Chase just faced the wall, his arms crossed, a lump in his throat and tears burning at the back of his eyes. He wasn't sure if he hoped Adam would try and talk him out of this or just leave him be. Either way, he figured he'd still be alone. In Exuro or in this basement, it didn't seem to matter.

Adam crossed the room and picked something up, then walked around in front of Chase.

"Here," Adam said, shoving the object into Chase's hands.

Chase looked at it. Then he looked at Adam.

"It's a roach in a bottle," he handed the bug back to Adam.

"Yes," Adam agreed, looking at it, "I thought you had been turned into this roach. I carried him all the way home. I know roaches don't live very long, and they make lousy conventionalists-"

"Conversationalists," Chase corrected automatically.

"Whatever. Bree hates roaches. She screamed when she saw it and jumped on the desk. And roaches are gross. They eat your food, flick their antennae at you, stare at you while you're in the shower..." he trailed off, "But you know what? I didn't care. I thought it was you and I wanted you to spend whatever time you had left with your family. You might have been a disgusting roach, but you were still my brother."

"What's your point?" Chase asked, though he thought he already knew.

"He may have made a really stupid mistake," Adam said, returning the box to Chase, who stared at it dumbly, "And he's a world class jerk for it. But he's still your father. He still loves you. And being angry with him won't make him a better person. And it won't make _you_ feel any better, either. I know. Whenever I get angry, I wind up lighting things on fire with my eyes. It isn't any fun. Especially when I set off smoke alarms and you start spinning around on the floor and screaming. Being angry has never done anything but cause damage and pain."

"You know, Adam, sometimes I wonder if you're as dumb as you look."

"Well thanks," Adam said, smiling, "Now, let's go upstairs before Leo opens all the presents."

"Okay, but let's leave the roach here. I don't want to see Leo's grandmother leap onto the kitchen counter."

"No, you don't," Adam agreed, and took the jar from Chase and put it back where he'd gotten it.

* * *

><p>"Look who got a new music box!" Leo announced as Adam and Chase came into the room.<p>

Adam and Chase exchanged looks, recalling that Leo had bought Tasha a music box after realizing he'd forgotten to get her a present. But they'd been there at the time, so why was he telling them now?

"Isn't it pretty?" Tasha encouraged, gesturing to the box Grandma Dooley was holding.

Adam and Chase exchanged looks again and Chase tried not to laugh. It appeared that Leo wasn't the only one who'd almost forgotten to get his mother a Christmas present.

"I hope nobody got me a music box," Adam said, "I can't figure out how to make them work, so then I just get mad and smash them. Which is fun, but less fulfilling than I always hope it will be."

"Adam, no one has ever gotten you a music box," Bree pointed out.

"Maybe not, but that's how I imagine it would be," Adam replied with a shrug.

While they were talking, Chase walked around the coffee table and sat down on the arm of the chair Mr. Davenport was presently inhabiting. Mr. Davenport looked surprised, but said nothing while Adam was describing how he'd feel if someone gave him a music box.

"I didn't get you a music box," Chase said to Mr. Davenport.

"No?" Mr. Davenport asked, hardly daring to hope that Chase wasn't mad at him anymore, that he was even really here.

"No. I got you this," Chase said, handing Mr. Davenport a small, flat object wrapped in paper, "Actually... I made it for you."

"Made it?" Mr. Davenport repeated skeptically.

Home-made gifts are notoriously useless, unattractive and impossible to get rid of once you have them. And Chase was not exactly the arts and crafts type. Mr. Davenport didn't want to complain though. Chase speaking to him at all after what had happened was startling enough to keep Mr. Davenport's normally raging ego in check. Especially considering what Chase had just said to him in the basement. He slowly unwrapped the package while everyone else looked on.

It turned out to be a CD. There was a picture of Mr. Davenport on the cover.

"'The best of Donald Davenport'," Mr. Davenport read aloud, then turned the case over to read off the back, "'Advice on Mathematics', 'Great Invention Ideas', 'Teaching Adam How to Use The TV Remote', 'The Levitation Ray Ad No. 1'... Chase, you were recording all these things? It must have taken you hours... days... to compile it all."

"I've got an app for that," Chase said with a grin.

"Chase, do not feed that man's ego," Tasha scolded without real anger, but Chase just laughed.

"Ego... that reminds me," Mr. Davenport said, looking up at Chase, "Adam's math teacher, Mr. Doku, called. Apparently he wants you to help represent the school in some kind of mathlete competition."

"Cool... but... why?" Chase asked, "I'm not in his class."

"Apparently, he was impressed by you playing Sudoku in the halls."

Chase narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

"But Sudoku has nothing to do with mathematics."

"It has to do with numbers," Mr. Davenport said, "Which is apparently close enough for Mr. Doku. It seems he can't find any good mathematicians in his own class."

"Chase, I know what I want you to get me for Christmas," Bree announced.

"It's a little late, don't you think?" Chase asked.

"No. This you can do. Please excuse me from watching your compete at math. I think that would make me ill. For real this time."

"I never said-"

"Chase," Adam interrupted, "We all know you inherited your ego from Mr. Davenport. And you've been invited to impress a bunch of math people with your skills. The implications of that are... frightening. Nobody wants to see your ego inflate that much. So please spare us."

Mr. Davenport rolled his eyes.

"Well, I for one plan to be there," Mr. Davenport said, "I know I'm not always there for you when I should be. The past few days are a perfect example. But I want to be. If you'll let me."

"You're forgiven," Chase said.

"I didn't ask you to-."

"Yes you did," Chase interrupted, "You just didn't say it out loud. But I heard you anyway. And I'm sorry."

"Chase," Mr. Davenport protested, "You don't have to apologize. I deserved everything you said. More even."

"But I shouldn't have lost my temper. Like Adam said," he looked over at his brother with a half smile, "It's not worth it."

Mr. Davenport choked up and was, for once, entirely speechless.

"Well," Adam said, seeing that everyone seemed very happy, "I think it's time for a group hug."

"Merry Christmas, everybody," Leo said.

* * *

><p>"Merry Christmas, Janelle," Leo said a week later at school.<p>

"A gift card?" Janelle said, looking and sounding rather deeply offended, "You got me a gift card? That's the laziest, most-..." she trailed off when she read the amount, then started again, "...-romantic and sweet thing you could have gotten me."

"And it has cute penguins with little red scarves on it," Leo pointed out eagerly.

"Leo, when I said that a Christmas present shouldn't be cheap, I didn't mean it had to be _this_ expensive," Janelle breathed, holding the card as though she believed it was a wisp of smoke that could dissipate in an instant if she took her eyes off it, "I mean... wow."

"You really like it?" Leo asked hopefully.

"I really do," Janelle told him, suddenly turning, throwing her arms around him and hugging him.

"What do you know," Adam, across the room and sitting on a bench between Bree and Chase, "Chase really does know something about what girls want."

"Who'd have guessed it?" Bree agreed.

"Hey!" Chase protested, but didn't get to go on because Leo came over looking slightly dazed.

"I can't believe that worked," Leo said in a giddy voice, "I may avoid being single when I graduate yet."

"Unlike Chase," Adam said.

"It's not like you have a girlfriend," Chase pointed out.

"Maybe not, but at least they don't scream and run away at sight of me."

"No, it's just after you start talking," Bree said.

Chase's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, a confused expression on his face. His look brightened when he saw who was calling. He got up and walked away from the others.

"Hi, Ruth. No. No, this isn't a bad time... oh, I'm at school, but between classes. Your father's preaching again? That's great... you got a kitten for Christmas? Well I bet that upset Fluffles... really? He likes the kitten? That's good... no... I haven't been in any more car accidents... you're moving to Mission Creek? Really? When?..."

Adam, Bree and Leo exchanged smiles and Bree shook her head.

"Only Chase would have to go five hundred miles to find a girl that likes him."

"I bet she's worth it, though," Adam said, then added defensively, "Any girl who likes Chase has got to be something really special."

"The same could be said of anyone who'll put up with any one of us," Bree observed, "I mean... we are not exactly the easiest people to get along with."

"Hey, I have a wonderful personality," Leo protested.

"Your girlfriends get insulted by your grandmother and beaten up by your step-dad's lab equipment."

"The lady has a point," Adam said.

"Yeah," Leo sighed, "I suppose she does... hey, Janelle! Wait up! I'll walk you to class!"

"Happy New Year, Adam," Bree said.

"How can you say that?" Adam asked, "It's just getting started."

"Well... Happy Old Year, then," Bree said, patting Adam on the shoulder, "And may the new one be just as good."

"Oh, it'll be just as good. But will it be even better?"

"You, dear brother, have very high expectations," Bree said.

"Yes I do," Adam replied as the bell rang.

"C'mon. We'll be late for class."

* * *

><p><em>And the bells, they're ringing (Peace on Earth)<br>Like a choir singing (peace on earth)  
>With our hearts we'll hear them (Peace on Earth)<br>Peace on Earth; goodwill to men!  
>Do you hear the bells they're ringing (Peace on Earth)<br>Like an angel singing (Peace on Earth)  
>Open up your hearts and hear them (Peace on Earth; goodwill to men)<em>

_**-I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day**_


End file.
